#Again. HOW DARE YOU PULL AT MY HEART STRINGS- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.

She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.

(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)

(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)

Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.

Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.

But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.

No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.

(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)

“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."

"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."

Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.

Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.

He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"

Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."

"...I'm leaving."

And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."

Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"

Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."

"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."

Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.

"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."

Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.

When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."

Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.

(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)

("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")

("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)

("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")

(Ellie doubts it.)

But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.

Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.

Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)

Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.

"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."

(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)

Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."

Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"

Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."

#danny speaks in formal english when he's pissed. he goes full on 'i shall eat his heart in the marketplace' levels of formal #not quite a ficlet not quite a post talking about the idea but a secret third option: its both of these at the same time #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp au #dpxdc au #dcdp #dpdc au #dp dc crossover #older brother danny #danny is an asshole with a heart of gold #the writing feels all over the place but since its not a fic i dont feel that self conscious about it lol. very much spitballing here #morally gray danny fenton #poc danny fenton #look ellie MIGHt - and thats a big if - have gotten away with the cousin lie if it weren't for the fact that she's danny's clone #danny who is not white nor remotely white-passing in this au. she might have gotten away if he had been and she claimed she was #from jack's side of the family. but alas. danny is adopted. the fentons are whiter than sunscreen. and danny is not.#dani and danny's meeting in danyal al ghul aus have the potenial of being IMMEDIATE dumpster fires which is very funny to me #on the basis of if danny knows he's adopted or not and if dani claims to be related directly to him or to jack.#dani: im your third cousin once removed :)#danny. is adopted: i kNOW YOU LYING. CUZ YO LIPS ARE MOVING #i got fanart for this au on haunting heroes discord and it kickstarted my thoughts about danyal again. they gave him the BATWING EYEBROWS #ellie has the batwing eyebrows too that was the mind killer thats what fucked her over /j. those are UNIQUELY BRUCE WAYNE BROWS FOLKS #fuck i wish tumblr told us on laptop when we run out of tags because i just lost like 4 of them. good thing i got screenies those were FUNN

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milf-murdock · 1 month

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Safety First

(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader

Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it. Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌 A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.

Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.

Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.

“Hey—“ the deep familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs.

“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action.

The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond.

“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch.

“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“

“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.”

You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.”

“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background.

__________________

Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7.

His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again.

“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response.

Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained.

He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car.

Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you.

The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more.

“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit.

“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.”

He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words.

“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.”

You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling.

“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks.

“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“

Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.”

“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?”

“Understood.” You sniffle once more.

“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand.

__________________

You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”

“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.”

“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame.

“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back.

“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.”

“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears.

As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.

You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was.

Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.

But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace.

Simon was going to teach you to shoot.

______________

That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you.

“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast.

“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?”

“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast.

“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug.

__________________

You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life.

Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could.

With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range.

The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this.

As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help.

“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity.

“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.”

“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.”

“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal.

Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms.

Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you.

“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy.

You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were.

“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.”

“But how did you—? Should I even—?”

“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.”

You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.”

“Good. Then let’s get after it.”

He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears.

“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses.

Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.”

“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.”

Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies.

“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.”

His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?”

You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—

“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.”

You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”

“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.” You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier?

“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him.

“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward.

It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside.

“Alright, she’s loaded now.”

“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”

“Now you point and shoot.”

“At what?”

“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley.

“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest.

Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track.

“Better?”

“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim.

With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger.

The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…

You’ve miss the target completely.

“S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles.

“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.”

You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level.

“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”

“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly.

“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.”

You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot.

“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.”

You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim.

A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger.

This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.

“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look.

Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down.

“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place.

You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!”

You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.”

And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless.

“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded.

“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around.

“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range.

You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.

“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response.

You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful.

Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon.

Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there.

Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.

“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon.

The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop.

“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs.

Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop.

You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height.

“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need.

His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs.

He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh.

You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.”

His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core.

Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him.

Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure.

His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take.

His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low.

“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?”

You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him.

“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm.

“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan.

“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock.

You nod fervently.

“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside.

You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained.

“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.”

You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss.

“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.”

Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.”

His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life.

“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.

“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure.

“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“

“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out.

“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.

You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours.

You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive.

“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.”

You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.”

Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Something like that, love.”

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon “ghost” Riley x reader

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ma1dita · 2 months

Note

its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve.

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips–excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift.

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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dxstopiaa · 1 year

Note

hey hey! could i request zhongli, cyno, and tighnari with a hypersexual s/o who is actually pretty ashamed, so when they finish, they wait till theyre asleep and starts breaking down bawling their eyes out. this is kinda deep but i js want some comfort at the same time. if this is too deep or dark feel free to not do it 🫶🫶🫶

characters: zhongli, tighnari and cyno x hypersexual! gn! reader.

warnings: nsfw elements! hurt/comfort [dont worry at all anon <3 if this is something you experience, you should never feel ashamed]

zhongli

❥ That feeling was there again— the one of guilt and shame you couldn’t eradicate no matter what you told yourself. Your husband’s thick cum still coated your thighs, not daring to move nor clean it up in fear of waking him beside you.

❥ You truly envied him. Zhongli slept peacefully with arms snaked around your bare waist, not a worry present. He loved you, you knew that, yet a tide of disgust wavered over your shivering body. It retreated in the form of hot flashes, returning upon each dreadful thought that went too long considered.

❥ His forearms, dangerously close to the tears accumulating at your jaw, embraced you so gently. You were too lost in the depths of your shame to realise your sobs had grown louder, grasping onto your lover’s hands for any sort of comfort.

❥ “My darling? What has you so distraught?” Zhongli’s husky voice whispered into your ear, not doing much except influencing the developing streams of saltwater across your cheeks. Your lack of response frightened him greatly, feeling his weight shift against the head board.

❥ “Please answer me, dearest?” His heart pumped with agony at your strings of broken cries. Did he go too rough with you? Were you scared? His questions dissipated when you wrapped your frail arms around his chest. Soft, tear-ridden eyes gleamed up at him, nothing but a satin robe to distance your bodies from another.

❥ “I feel so revolted with myself. Do you feel that way too?” Your meek, shaky voice muttered such self-deprecating language left those lips he kissed with pure adoration. How could you doubt his love? His light gasp followed by a frown pulled you from the depths of overthinking.

❥ “Of course not, sweetheart. Hearing words so undervaluing from you leads me to think of the restless nights you’ve endured without my knowledge. Allow me to help you, what is it that you’d like, dear?” He fondled your shaking hand, smoothing a finger over your wedding ring.

“Anything that regards you is nothing short of perfect, i’ll prove so by whatever means.”

cyno

❥ Soft, undisturbed snores filled the room, courtesy of the sleeping general. You were still reminiscing of the events which had occurred a mere hour ago. You— who was so eager and needy for Cyno it felt humiliating. He had you on his cock nearly every day, pleasuring you albeit not making as much noise himself.

❥ Was he tired of your high libido? Was he getting bored of you? Endless questions swarmed your mind like a cyclone, twisting your perception of your boyfriend till it rained down. You couldn’t help but start to weep, tributaries of tears collecting at your chin, washing away the gentle touches Cyno had placed there prior.

❥ You shouldn’t be so obvious about it, you thought. Perhaps it’d be better to calm down in the bathroom, removing the covers from your body. You didn’t even get to lift your head from the damp pillow fully as your lover had seized your wrist.

❥ “Don’t go, hiding your tears from me won’t help you in the slightest, love.” Called out Cyno, voice raspy with slumber. Although he didn’t know what this was about, that somber expression did not suit you in the slightest. He’d rather have it gone.

❥ Eyes blurred and hazy, you glanced over at him, finally allowing him to pull you close at his side. How could you even describe this to him— say that it’s nothing or burst into tears before you even opened your mouth? Your throat felt painfully constricted.

❥ “Don’t worry, if you can’t tell me now, this can be discussed in the morning. For now, just get some rest.” Cyno comforted, tracing his thumbs over each tear-stained cheek. You didn’t need to tell him, he could already sense what was wrong.

❥ That distant look in your eyes whenever you finished quickly, the sobs he thought were of pleasure were rather subtle cries of guilt. It was quite obvious yet he was so unperceptive to not realise it till you were curled up beside him? Cyno held you closer than ever, arms framing your shivering body as if you were glass, about to shatter any second now.

“I apologise for not seeing this earlier. Let me remind you that i fell in love with the exact person you’re incorrectly ashamed of, i wouldn’t change anything about you.”

tighnari

❥ There was something off about you— Tighnari could sense it, although not place a finger on it. Your lips trembled with something he thought was fear, yet it wouldn’t make sense if it was. You’ve always been an expressive person, so why the sudden change?

❥ You were quite loud just a few minutes ago, now it seems you’ve withdrawn yourself under the cotton covers for comfort. You’d always ask for aftercare and snuggle close to him after sex, though not a single request sounded from the opposite side of the bed.

❥ If only he knew that your saline tears dampened the pillow and your lashes, the red hue that was on your cheeks had shifted up to your eyes, worn with distress. Tighnari had never mentioned anything negative to you at all, however this sickening discomfiture twisted your stomach.

❥ Despite how hard you tried to disguise the reality of your feelings, fleeing from your excessive eroticism, it’d all come down one day. Your throat closed up, a pounding migraine overtook your senses, making it all the more apparent.

❥ “Dear? What’s the matter? Are you hurt?” The forest ranger panicked— ears twitching half-confusedly. No response apart from a snivel and the rustling of the quilt which you grasped onto. Immediately, he reached for a glass of water and towel.

❥ Tighnari turned you over, fingers brushing along your jaw, patting the cool, damp fabric over your closed eyes. Wails of panic were replaced with small hiccups, breathing still irregular but not as before. Would you even want to discuss this now? He fears startling you again.

❥ Your boyfriend continued to lightly massage your head, raking his slender fingers in your tangled hair. Moments like these— where you needed him the most, he’s here for you.

“Shh, it’s okay, don’t stress over this too much dearest. Get some sleep now.”

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harfanfare · 6 months

Text

Unique Kisses: Honest Fellow

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

a/n: fluff, implied female reader (”princess” pet name). I have no idea how to deal with the brainriot that came with the appearance of this shady man, like what.

Honest Fellow (teasing kisses)

“My little star,” Fellow’s lips trail your knuckles, and you can feel a smile against your skin as he senses your pulse quicken. He has the audacity to look so gentlemanly, oh so very blithely, as if this idea has just struck his head under this evening’s romantic atmosphere. “May I have this kiss?”

You’d like to reply, really, but in the next second there are lips on your jawline and a glowed hand that raises your chin; the words you had on your tongue die as you gasp slightly, your eyes fluttering open by the sudden sensation.

Well, you’re charmed. Infatuated with love or ensorceled by a thick layer of Fellow’s unique magic, you don’t reject those dramatic touches, scenic enough to feel like being pulled into a play where a gentlemanly prince kisses a princess.

And while Fellow might have the reputation of being a gentleman, he’s too impish, too rouge to be one. He can only play the role, the facade might even drop, but dumb princesses—you dare to compare yourself to one as Fellow uses that pet name, among countless others—are known for falling even for twisted men.

“Why so quiet?” He asks, and you quiver with frustration, as he seals your lips again. That damn bastard; he thinks the navy suit he wears makes him look sleek and the way he tucks his holey gloves off is luscious enough to make your cheeks blush. He isn’t that wrong, yet…

…It is infuriating to dance to Fellow’s tune in a choreography he is a lead to. Even if you love him.

“Stop… teasing me like this,” you manage to lift your head enough so that you break the kiss. Fellow snorts at your poor attempt to catch a breath and at the weak try to keep him at your elbow’s distance, as he holds you close to his chest. The sweet scent of the cologne he wears makes you even more dizzy.

He moves his hands to your hair and tucks the stray locks behind your ear. If he could grab the camera, he would capture the adorable expression you wear—but he doesn’t want to waste his time searching for that fickle thing, no, no. He isn’t able to concentrate on anything else, and he needs to satisfy the whim of alluring you (once again) before he’ll be physically able to move away.

“My, you don’t sound very convincing,” he smiles and strokes your cheek so gently. “But I will believe you. Loveliest, just say a word, and I’ll just kiss you goodnight for the last time.”

Like you could’ve expected, you aren’t granted a chance to say anything else. He kisses you more and more, and at this point, the most fastidious princess would be already satisfied.

…Fellow might be scared. He might not want to hear your answer, even if the look in your eyes and the way your heart beats should be enough to suffice any of his questions.

If you could utter a word, you would confess your love once for the thousandth time.

“That’s right. The silence says it all,” he whispers as his thumb traces your lips. “You are so gorgeous, and you are mine.”

Like a doll. But you’re no doll, you’re more beautiful than any masterpiece magic could ever create. You’re free, and you choose to stay with him. There are no strings attached to your hands that keep him at his side. There is just one, tightly knotted on your heart and it’s a cherished bond you put on yourself.

He doesn’t have a puppet in you. He has a lover who will shower him with selfless love, yet he still can’t believe anyone would have given it to him for free.

So, he must’ve stolen it.

He smiles. “By obligation of being a thief, I will steal your heart all over again, and keep it safe with me.” I love you. "That’s the duty I owe to myself as you are my treasure.”

#I... I have no words for this man #I hope his backstory will be heart-grabbing or sth so it will be socially acceptable to simp for him #fellowives here's your man #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #fellow honest #ferro honest #fellow x reader #fellow honest x reader #ferro x reader #ferro honest x reader #honest fellow x reader #honest ferro x reader

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acesw · 5 months

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The Grecos, Schneider, and her Religious Trauma

One of the characters I really find interesting is Schneider. There are strong signs that she has religious trauma, which ties really well with the neglect she's experienced growing up and the way this trauma reflects her behaviors and words.

The Grecos are known to be really religious, and they're quite devout to Christianity as a means of life. It does not mean that they wouldn't do things to ensure that they're able to at least eat. Living in Chicago of all places is already one struggle enough, making sure they get by despite having bad relationships with gangs adds so much.

Prior to moving, they were more devoted to God as coming from a community in Sicily. They moved because of how bad the poverty situation had been (the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s), hoping to seek a better life in America. Of all places though, they moved to Chicago, where there were crimes and gangs all about. This resulted to the Grecos having to pull strings to keep their head up the water, and they still practice Christianity as a means to maintain morale.

We then have Schneider. The youngest and most neglected child of the Grecos. She was barely fed and paid attention to among her 11 older sisters. The Narrator also notes that she was even neglected from the start, as she turned a year old before her father realized she wasn't baptized.

Now, there are two main instances that showcase Schneider's religious trauma peeking through are the traces "From One Castle to Another" and "Long Night Trip". Both of which are very much talking about Schneider's past. There are parts of the dialogue that stick out to me.

-From One Castle to Another

"It's impossible to keep every child well-fed. Schneider could not even get a piece of bread in the Eucharist. But a good daughter would not let anyone worry about her. She sat on the bench outside the church and hummed. She found a way out for herself."

"The Grecos are among them. They're covered by the dark cloud of long-handed umbrellas. [...] But you can't find Schneider. [...] It rains heavier. The priest opens his arms to embrace the sky, 'The Lord be with you.' " " 'And also with you.' Schneider responds in a voice that could hardly be heard. She puts her hand on her heart. This is the first time she responds to the Lord. And it will be the last."

-Long Night Trip

The Narrator talks about Schneider's slow descent into losing her faith in these conversations. She used to pray and hope that God would fix things and give an answer for her and her family's suffering. And all that happened was that it got worse.

It only ever makes Schneider question and doubt, and eventually she stops believing in God. But everyone around her, her family in particular, still maintains their strong belief that he'd guide them out of struggle. Meanwhile, she take things into her own hands for that matter.

And again, everyone would resort to praying, praying, and praying. Yet Schneider wouldn't dare try. Because if he listened to her this one time then they heard all the other times and never cared to help. That rubs salt in the wound.

So with this, we see how Schneider creates her newfound identity. She starts frequenting underground markets and doing certain odd jobs. She is able to make amends with other gang leaders and grow her own strong faction in Chicago.

All so she makes enough money for the rest of her family to eat and thrive. It showcases her sense of selflessness, her full care for her family despite how they treated her. She cares for them more than anything, because even with barely receiving love, they're the ones that raised her. Schneider actively does it all to prove that she can give.

Even in the main story there are those hints of that trauma seeping through. Throughout the game she refers to her bosses as "My Lord", a name that's usually reserved for God.

In the 'Green Oranges' segment of chapter 2, we see that Schneider's younger self describes America as a new world. A place of wonders, where blessings will be given and all sins will be forgiven. There, "God loves the world". Because back in Sicily, she believes that God does not love her and her family here. This ties back to the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s, where again, the poverty situation had been so bad. Not to mention the overpopulation and the natural disasters that came with it.

Meanwhile, her adult self is heavily injured from the gunshot wounds and Vertin stops shooting her. She expresses her frustration of being unable to die fast, which then turns to this: "Or did God finally forgive me...He allowed me...to stay alive!!"

"God would never make or guide one to that first action," Schneider thinks, because only she alone did it. She decided to step in, with no guidance of the God she once loved. The God that never forgave her.

The entirety of chapter 1 and 2 shows that her trauma runs really deep. The youngest and most neglected child turns into the most diligent and faithless Greco. She expresses her clear disdain for God, and does everything in her own power to do what "he never did for her and her family."

#reverse 1999 #schneider #schneider reverse 1999 #character analysis #she and marian definitely reunited with their family #they deserve their happy ending #schneider needs a hug

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pamgkrthwrites · 10 months

Text

Trigger warnings!!!: Implied past sexual assault, implied violence, Soulmate AU, Fantasy AU, Bakugou x Reader, written on phone so autocorrect is my enemy.

Barbarian!Bakugou raids villages because he is looking for the name on his wrist, his soulmates. You.

You has search many villages and has yet to find you.

That’s is until he finds a small cottages with some animals, a large garden farm and a water full to keep fresh water, in the middle of nowhere.

He sees you and your small 4-5 year old daughter. You treat her as if she is a priceless crystal glassware that is so fragile.

He knows it’s you, he can feel the string on his heart pull him towards you. You must feel it too considering there are times you look into the tree line where in the discretion he is hiding in.

You’ll never see him though.

The day he does make himself known is where it’s raining a storm outside. Bakugou knocks on your door and asks for shelter until the storm pasts.

All he sees is fear in your eyes.

You let him in, but you keep yourself far away from him. He at first thinks it’s because he is clearly a barbarian.

That is until he notices just a few things. Like when he steps towards you too fast and you quickly rushed to the far side of the room. Like when you go to bed, bringing your daughter in with you and lock the door with several locks. Like when he hears you crying to your daughter that you won’t let a man touch her.

It clicks in, and he can feel a violent rage build up in his blood.

He’s going to find the thing that did this to you, and he will kill them. Slowly.

When the storm pasts he says his thanks and leaves. He doesn’t want you under more stress than you clearly are in.

It’s only after his sword is covered in blood does he remember. He never told you his name.

Shit-

He returns to you with Kirishima and Mina behind him. He was hoping that if Mina was with him, you’d be less scared.

He also brings 6 goats as “thanks” for you housing him during the storm.

He still sees the fear in your eyes, but it’s a bit more calm with Mina being there and with the goats.

This time before he leaves, he tells you his name.

“Stop calling me Barbarian! I have a name, y’know! It’s Bakugou Katsuki!”

He only looks in your eye for a second before leaving again.

He won’t be forgetting the look of realisation in your eyes and how they softened a little.

He won’t push you to love him, or even be nice to him while you still clearly live in your fear. He will however visit you once a fortnight so you get use to him.

He won’t touch you until you ask, and he doesn’t dare touch your daughter until you give him permission to.

It’s takes years for you to grant him permission to kiss you, but he doesn’t mind. He knows you needed it at this pace, he’ll never push you. He’ll never force you to do anything.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #Bakugou x reader #Bakugo c reader #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #Katsuki Bakugo x reader #Bakugo Katsuki x reader #fantasy au #fantasy bakugou #my hero academia fantasy au #barbarian bakugou #bakugou x soulmate #soulmate au

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starlightrosa · 1 month

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Fizzarolli's Nerves

Summary: Fizzarolli is preparing for Mammon's yearly clown contest, and he's getting nervous, as he just has to be perfect. But all this practicing is disrupting Asmodeus's plan of relaxing with his beloved. That won't do at all.

Pairing: Fizz/Asmodeus

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Tickling, Swearing, Mind-Rotting Fluff. (Author regrets nothing.)

(My very first fic! Please be nice <3)

“You’ll do it, Fizz. You’ll be fine. You need to be perfect for Mammon. Always perfect.” the imp mumbled, practicing everything he felt he needed to practice in order to win Mammon’s clown contest for the tenth time in a row. Fizz knew the elements of the contest off by heart, having won it so many times. So everything running through that little imp’s head was covered.

Balloon animals. Pie gags. Comedy section. Singing, dancing, acrobatics. You name it, Fizz practiced it. There was certainly no shortage on what Fizzarolli could do, and he had to win. He had to be perfect.

That was how Asmodeus, King of Lust and Fizz’s loving partner- er, BUSINESS partner, found him.

“What’s the difference between a snowman and a snow-woman? The snowballs! Wait, no. More energy, I need to have lots more energy. Like, twenty seven coffees kinda energy. Okay. You got this, Fizz. You got this. Try again. What’s the difference between a snow man and a snow woman? The snowballs! Hmm, still missing something. What could I do? Maybe I could juggle? Do a pose? Maybe I could hit myself in the face with a snowball? Um… ah, think, Fizz!” the jester rambled.

Ozzie yawned as he came into the living room where Fizz was, the rooster rubbing at his eyes.

“Froggie, it’s eight in the morning. Are you seriously practicing this early in the morning? Come back to bed, babe. You’re gonna be exhausted…” Asmodeus murmured, the grand lord rubbing at his eyes.

Alas, the imp did not heed Ozzie’s warning.

“Ozzie, I have to be perfect for Mammon. If I’m not perfect, then I’ll lose! And I don’t wanna lose, that just-! Ugh. It just can’t happen, okay? I need to be perfect. I need to be better than perfect! I-!”

And that was when Ozzie got on his knees and scooped Fizz off the ground, pulling his beloved into a hug. Despite initially struggling to get out, Fizz soon relaxed and sunk his head into his lover’s chest.

“Fizzie~” Ozzie coaxed, using that voice that Fizz liked to hear. Honey rich and sweet, it always comforted Fizzarolli enough to talk about what was bothering him, and it brought Ozzie some peace of mind to be able to know what was distressing his beloved imp partner.

“Ugh. Ozz, what if I’m not good enough this year? What if I don’t win?” Fizz asked. Ozzie just chuckled.

“Fizz, you’ve won for nine times straight. Ten times this year, guaranteed. And you wanna know why you win so much? Cause you got some talent about you. Plus, Mammon says he wants the best, and we all know you’re the best he’s got. And besides, if that fat Christmas tree wants something better, he just isn’t gonna find it. Plus he won’t give the others a chance, he’ll pull the strings so you win anyway, and I’ll put money on that bullshit.”

“I need to win, Oz! And I need to practice if I want to win. Can you let me go?” Fizz asked, trying to gently pry himself out of Asmodeus’s arms. The King of Lust, however, did not budge a single bit.

“Well, I would on any other day, but I am not having my Fizzie Frog being anxious as fuck. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go back to bed, watch a stupid rom-com, and laugh at it, spending time with each other along the way.”

“Nice thought. But maybe later, Ozzie.” Fizz murmured. And that was when Asmodeus’s grip tightened slightly.

“I don’t think I phrased it as a question, Froggie~” Asmodeus responded, the Lord of Lust’s fingers moving slightly towards Fizz’s stomach. Fizz squirmed a little in Ozzie’s arms, already knowing where this was going.

“Ozzie, don’t you fucking dare!” Fizz yelped, biting back a smile.

“Oh, but I do fucking dare, baby~ give Ozzie that tum-tum, and I’ll tickle those worries right outta ya!” he declared, his fingers finally landing as he snuck them up Fizzarolli’s jester shirt, softly poking and scratching along Fizz’s belly.

Poor Fizzarolli had no chance to resist.

“Pffffhahahaha! O-Ozziehehehe!” Fizz giggled, gently squirming side to side in his lover’s arms, trying to gently slap Asmodeus’s tickly fingers off.

“Hands to yourself, Froggie. Don’t make me get them out of the way~” Asmodeus teased.

Fizz pouted playfully even as he struggled a bit. Rough tickles made him laugh a lot, but these soft and gentle tickles were much worse sometimes if Ozzie was the one tickling Fizz.

ESPECIALLY if Ozzie was the one tickling Fizz.

Ozzie saw the playful pout and he tutted. His Fizzy, pouting at tickles? Oh, that just would not do, no sir.

Asmodeus migrated his gentle scratches down to Fizzarolli’s hips, enjoying the squeaky laughter that slipped out of his beloved’s mouth. “Aww, someone’s squeaky. Squeaky Fizzie.”

“Hahahaha!!! A-Asmodeus, it tickles! Q-Quihihit it!” Fizzarolli managed to press out, a dark black blush adorning his cheeks. Asmodeus had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop audibly cooing at how goddamn cute his boyfriend was being.

“Not until you agree to come relax with me, Froggie. Just say that you’re done practicing for the day and these tickles will stop. How ‘bout that, huh? Seems a fair deal to me.”

“B-But I can’t stop!”

“If you can’t stop, then neither do these tickles, Froggie.” Asmodeus cooed, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers slipped up to Fizz’s torso to prove a point, beginning to gently count his beloved’s ribs. “Two. Four. Six. Eight…”

Fizzarolli was lost in snorting laughter as he felt Asmodeus’s fingers lightly working his ribs.

“Ahahahaha, hehehehe! N-Not fahahahair, Ozzie! Hahahahaha!” Fizzarolli cackled, the odd snort leaving him. For Lucifer’s sake, how could one imp be this cute? Asmodeus felt his heart squeeze in adoration with every snort that came from Fizzarolli’s mouth.

“All is fair in love and laughter, Froggie.” Asmodeus shot back.

Fizzarolli threw his head back, his jester’s hat jangling as he did so. Satan’s beard, it tickled so much!

“Aah! Ah, ah! Nohohohohahaha! Ozzie, not there! Not there, plehehehease!!” Fizzarolli begged, feeling his lover’s fingers tracing at that one spot at the crook of his neck.

Ozzie only chuckled, not stopping the traces. “I’ve not even done anything yet, Fizzie Frog. You can’t be that ticklish here, surely?” he asked, though Ozzie knew much, much differently. It was one of his little rituals he did. Before they both went to bed, Ozzie would give a gentle kiss on Fizz’s neck each night. The imp was rather ticklish on his neck though, and the feeling of Fizz slamming his face into Ozzie’s chest, trying to muffle his ticklish giggles never failed to bring a smile to the Sin’s face.

“N-No, I’m nohohohot!” Fizz lied, immediately going for the defensive move. But Asmodeus was no fool when it came to his beloved partner. Ozzie knew Fizz’s tells, just as Fizzarolli knew his.

“Is that so, Froggie? Funny, I seem to remember that you can barely handle my goodnight kisses on that neck of yours. Like, all I do is this…” he explains, landing a kiss on Fizzarolli’s neck, right into the crook of his neck with an overexaggerated “MWAH!” noise, grinning wickedly. “…And you just fall about laughing!”

Fizz, as expected, burst into hysterical giggles as he kicked his robotic legs every which way, trying desperately to not kick his beloved in the face.

“O-Ozzie! Stop it, hahaha! Stop it, that tickles, Ozzie!” Fizz cried out, a wide smile betraying his true feelings.

Then Asmodeus decided to get a little bit mean. He gently held Fizz against his chest and nuzzled the crook of his imp partner’s neck… before blowing a soft raspberry into the crook. Fizz absolutely squealed.

“EEEEEEEEK! HAHAHA, AAAH HAHAHA! SHIT, HAHA! OKAY, OZZIE, OKAY!” the ticklish little imp shrieked, going limp in Asmodeus’s arms. And that was when Ozzie knew he’d had enough.

“Thought as much, babe.” Asmodeus smirked, finally switching the mood from playful to cuddly as he stopped the tickles, his fingers softly scratching the top of Fizzarolli’s head. The imp melted under his touch as Ozzie walked back to their shared bedroom, the doors closing behind them.

Asmodeus settled Fizz under the covers with him. And soon the pair drifted off, smiles on both of their faces as the sounds of that dumb rom-com in question, Pretty Woman, played in the background forgotten by them both.

Finito! Hope you enjoyed this one :)

#helluva boss tickle #lee!fizzarolli #ler!asmodeus #ticklish!fizzarolli #helluva boss fic #tickle fic #rosa writes

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sapphic-pikachu · 1 year

Text

Shooting Your Shot

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 3.4K

Summary: Arthur makes good on his promise to teach you how to shoot. You struggle with this time alone with him due to your seemingly unrequited feelings for him.

Warnings: sfw, guns, shooting, bullets, me not knowing anything about guns so being intentionally vague about them, reader and Arthur are both fools, kissing, Arthur and reader are touched starved, physical affection

A/N: @sharinkashaf Fucking please let Arthur teach reader how to shoot. ❤️❤️❤️

thank you for the idea for this one! also thank you for all the love on my first one shot that I posted the other day, I will be working on a part 2 for it! please if you have any ideas or things you want to see me write for Arthur let me know! once again, warning that it has been years since I’ve last written anything so it’s not perfect

You smirked into your coffee mug as the high pitched whines of Sean’s complaints sounded around camp. You had been half sitting on one of the camps tables, watching as Tilly had defeated Sean in dominoes for what must have been the fifth time in a row. Despite Sean’s insistence that the younger girl must have been cheating, or was secretly a professional dominos player, his words were met with rolling of eyes and laughter as the games continued.

There was a good mood sunken over the camp that morning. It had seemed like you had all reached a string of good luck - for once, you didn’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The donation box was full, people were smiling amongst themselves and even the coffee didn’t taste as bad as it normally did.

You knew who this all was thanks to. For weeks, Arthur had been slaving himself, constantly out of camp and on missions, scouting out new resources and pulling through with every plan Dutch had given him. Your heart fluttered at the thought of him, but you willed yourself not to turn to look for him, even though you had noted his absence near the centre of camp all morning. Silently, you prayed that wherever he was, he was able to take advantage of the peacefulness in camp that he had helped bring about.

A hand settled on your shoulder, causing you to jump and loose grip of your coffee mug. With one hand still on your shoulder, Arthur swooped in and grabbed your mug before it could clatter to the ground. Speak of the devil, you thought - you didn’t dare say it out loud, not wanting the man to know how at home he was in your thoughts.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” he said, his body so close to yours’ that it felt like he was whispering directly into your ear.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder. Your coffee mug and what little coffee remained in it was forgotten as Arthur set it on the table you rested by.

“S’alright. Didn’t startle me too bad.” you replied, craning your head to look up at him from your close proximity. Arthur just stared back at you, seemingly in thought.

“You need something?” You asked, suddenly aware that any moment longer in this position might have you spontaneously combust into flames.

Arthur blinked, removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. His lack of touch made the spot on your shoulder where his hand had sat feel cold.

“Was just wondering if you’d be free. Shooting practice. Like I’d promised you.”

You remembered this promise vividly. You had been certain that he hadn’t though. It had been weeks since that talk. You had been running with the gang for close to a year now. While you were good at pickpocketing and scamming out drunk men, you were deeply aware that your gun work needed immense practice. There had been more than a few close calls that frightened you by now, ones that would have frightened you less had you been more skilled in shooting. Your skills were passable - you could pull the trigger on the gun enough times to scare off more passive enemies but you were slow to draw and even slower to hit where you wanted to. After a few drinks round the camp fire, you had confessed this insecurity to Arthur. You weren’t sure why him. Maybe because he was there. Maybe because he was the best gunman in camp by far. Maybe because you were hopelessly in love with him.

You took a deep breath to try simmer down the swell of emotion in your chest. He had drunk that night too - you were certain that his promise to make you a better shooter was just the alcohol speaking.

“We’ll make a proper gunslinger of you yet, darlin’.” he had slurred, before chugging another sip of whiskey and passing you the bottle. When you drank from the bottle after him, you did it slowly: it wasn’t just the whiskey you’d wanted a taste of now.

“I’m free. I’ll just go get my horse ready-”

“Ain’t no need. We won’t go far, we can just go on mine if it’s alright with you.” he interrupted, breaking his stare from you to peer off at nothing beside him. His hand rubbed at where his shirt collar touched his neck as he waited for your response. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“S’alright with me. Where we going?” At your confirmation, he began to walk off with you beside him towards where his mare stood.

“I set up some targets in the clearing east of ‘ere earlier this morning. Empty enough we’ll not be heard, but still close enough to camp that we won’t be bothered by anyone,” He replied, setting up a layer of blanket just behind his saddle on his horse, “You alright sitting behind?”

You would sit anywhere as long as it let you be close to him. You didn’t tell him that - you just hummed a yes and watched as he pulled himself up onto his horse, sitting slightly farther forward than he usually would.

He held out his hand and you accepted it, trying to ignore how small you felt in his grasp. You have yourself a boost with one leg in the empty stirrups, and flung your other leg over the horse.

“Sitting alright?” He asked. Your hand was still in his, his finger closed over yours with his thumb gently dragging up and down your hand in a way that weirdly comforted you. You weren’t sure if he noticed, but it was increasingly difficult for you not to.

“Yeah, m’fine.” You responded. You felt like your whole body was on fire. Your chest was pressed up against his back, your knees pressing against his upper thighs to secure your place on the horse.

Arthur’s thumb stopped moving as if it suddenly occurred to him that he was still holding your hand. He released it, grabbing his horse’s rope and grunting a response back to you. With your hands now free, you placed them underneath his bent arms, gingerly clutching onto his waist. If your touch had bothered him, Arthur did not say.

Your journey to the clearing was uneventful and quiet. An uneasy anxiety settled over your stomach. You had wished that Arthur could have a day of peace, but here he was, having to teach you how to shoot because you were too bad of a shot to protect yourself. You felt bad that you had pressured him into this. You felt bad that he was always made to look after everyone in camp all of the time. You felt bad that despite this, all you could think about was the feeling of his stomach underneath your fingertips as your arms wrapped around his waist.

His horse came to a stop and you could see what Arthur had been doing all morning. Crates had been stacked up around a tree, the various heights of the crates displaying different sizes and shapes of tins and glass bottles. The bottles had been placed in the branches of the tree itself, with shards of glass strung up, hanging down from the tree by strands of a thin rope. The sun shone down on the tree, reflecting the colours of the glass onto the ground, a mirage of different colours.

“Wow. This looks great Arthur. Like a proper shootin’ range an’ all.” You said to him as he stood on the grass beside you, helping you down from his horse.

“S’nothin’. Just took a lil’ time this morning.” He looked away from you, pulling his hand away from yours once your feet were steady on the ground. He rubbed at his neck again.

“It ain’t nothing, Arthur. Must’ve took some time. Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry, I know you got better things to be doing.” It was getting hard to swallow with how full your heart felt.

Arthur turned his head back to you at your words. His brow furrowed as he began to speak.

“You don’t got nothing to be sorry about. There ain’t nothing better for me to do but to spend time with you.” Arthur froze slightly at the end of his sentence, as if he had said something he didn’t mean to say. A slight blush spread across his face and he looked away from you again.

You reached out bravely and touched his upper arm.

“Thank you, Arthur. Truly.”

Arthur nodded before turning and getting his pistol out of his saddle bag behind you. Upon a further glance, you realised it wasn’t his usual pistol at all. It was new you thought, a shiny Schofield Revolver with a pearl handle and gold metal. Something was engraved onto the frame, but in the reflection of the sun you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

Arthur passed you the gun and a hand full of bullets, indicating for you to get the gun ready. Thankfully, this was something you didn’t need taught - after finishing, you hand the gun back to Arthur where he inspects it and hums out a response.

He passes you back the gun and begins walking closer to the tree. As you follow him, you note that he’s created a guideline in the grass of where the stand, with another stack of creates beside it. He sits down on the crates and nods for you to stand in position on the grass.

“I just want to see what we’re working with first - aim for the glass bottles on the second row if you can,” He says, leaning back on the crate and taking out an apple from his bag. He starts to cut it into slices with his knife, eating it piece by piece.

You hold the gun in front of you with two hands. You’re trembling slightly. You hate the fact that he’s watching you. More than that, you hate the fact that he’s watching you and you don’t know what he’s thinking.

The sound and recoil of the gun makes you jump slightly. You miss any bottle completely, the bullet skimming into the vacant air beside the crates. You shoot again, less shocked by the recoil this time, but still an awful shot. Again, you shoot, this time hitting the corner of one of the crates. It’s still no where near where your aiming, but you’re hitting something so you can’t help but feel slightly proud. You shoot, again, again, again. You manage to hit a tin can four objects down from the bottle you aim for on the second row. Your ears are ringing in your head and your hands feel tight from their grip around the gun. From behind you, you hear Arthur come towards you from his place on the crate. He’s good at going unnoticed when he wants to despite his large size, but now, he makes his presence known to you, his chest skimming your back.

“Right foot backwards, steady yourself.” He’s leaning his head down to speak directly to your ear. Your heart beats a little bit quicker but you follow his request, moving your right leg slightly backwards till it connects with his. You position your foot right in front of his. His left leg adjusts to settle right behind your left one. Your breathing gets a bit quicker also.

“Need you completely straight. Always facing towards where your aiming to match up your sights.” His voice rings in your head. Need you, need you, need you. His hands land on either side of your waist, swivelling you slightly to face you completely towards the tree, your legs staying in the same position supported by the feeling of his behind you. You think his hands stay on your waist a few seconds longer than they should do.

He guides his hands up to your shoulders. He moves them slightly too, more gentle than anyone who’s ever met him would ever expect him to be capable of. Except you. From the day you’d met Arthur, you knew exactly what he would be capable of, despite his insistence that he was a bad man. But you knew: a bad man would not be spending his day holding you so close and so gently like this for no benefit of his own.

He grabs each of your hands with his own from underneath your arms. He’s holding them up, supporting you, slightly stretching forward now to position the gun in front of you. His front is fully pressed up against you. You can feel it now - his own heartbeat is just as quick as yours.

His head is resting against yours, his neck craning down to adjust to your smaller size in comparison to his.

Together, as one, you lift the gun to aim at the bottle on the second row. His finger wraps around yours to guide you into pulling the trigger. He speaks again, so close to you he’s almost apart of you, his voice meant for nothing else except for speaking to you.

“Breathe in as you aim. Keeps you still,” You do as he tells you, feeling his own chest expand behind you and you breath together, “Shoot on the exhale. You got this sweetheart.”

You exhale at the same time as him, the heaviness of your breaths cancelled out by the loud bang as the shot rings out. You hear a splinter and crack as your bullet collides with its target. Not dead centre, but you’ve hit it, and that’s good enough. If you were so preoccupied on steadying your heartbeat at the feeling of Arthur pressing against you, you might have cried out in triumph.

“Good girl.” Arthur whispers to you. You aren’t sure if it’s the sound of the bullets ringing in your ears or his voice anymore. You know that because you can feel his heartbeat in his chest behind you, he can feel yours too. You know that the smirk you feel spread across his face as he presses against the side of your head is because he can feel how his praise made your heart skip another beat.

You keep shooting like that; Arthur guiding you with his own body and you hitting every target every time. After a while Arthur pulls his arms back from yours. You almost deflate at his absence but he doesn’t remove himself from your back. Instead he places his hands on your waist and tells you to keep going.

When you shoot again, Arthur’s lack of guidance is noticeable - but not extremely. You’re better than you were, the bullet landing a centimetre off from the tin can you now aim for. You shoot again creating a whole just off the centre of the can. You shoot again, the bullet disappearing seamlessly into the previous hole. Arthur squeezes at your hips as you grin.

It continues on like that: you shoot, more often than not hitting the target spot on or hitting it on your second try, and Arthur, a constant behind you squeezing his hands in congratulations on your waist, inching them closer and closer until eventually he has almost enveloped you completely in a backwards hug. He murmurs appreciation every so often, and your heart has stopping beating a little quicker every time this happens. In fact, his mere presence has made your constant heartbeat so fast already that there is little change.

The gun clicks, the chamber empty. You’re scared to breathe, worried that any sudden move will scare Arthur out of your arms, like a prey spotting it’s hunter. But it’s Arthur who breaks the stillness, removing his hands from your waist to bring your arms down to your chest, the gun still clutched between your hands. His arms come to clutch around your waist again, circling you completely as his hands meet by your stomach. You feel him swallow heavily. In this moment, there is nothing else in the world but him behind you and his hands round your waist.

You hold the gun in one hand and with the other you gently place it over his hands on your stomach: you’re scared that as you spin in place on your feet to face him that he’ll move away, so you hold his hands in place.

You can’t meet his eyes, looking at his chest and downwards as you place the gun from your hand into his holster around his waist. It’s your turn to swallow heavily now.

As you raise your gaze to look at his face, you find him already staring at you. You are still, desperately away of his hands, now settled low on the small of your back.

“That was great work there.” He says, not breaking eye contact with you as his voice barely breaks past a whisper.

“I had a great teacher.” You whisper back. He smiles at that, and you smile back as though you’ve just shared a secret meant just for the two of you. As the blue of his eyes brighten in the sun, you think that maybe you have.

His head tilts downwards, just barely enough to notice it. But you notice. You’ve always noticed every detail about Arthur, just as he’s always noticed you.

“Please.” You ask him, voice quiet and pleading as you break his stare to glance towards his lips.

He answers.

You’re practically on your toes, supported by his tightened grip around your back. His mouth connects to yours, gently and unsure at first. You hand comes up to rest against the side of his face, the other holding on to the collar of his shirt, brushing against his neck. At this, his kiss deepens, pulling you tighter against him. You use your grip on his collar to do the same, pulling yourself as close as you can into his chest.

After the moment passes, you both pull apart. He rests his forehead against yours. He’s breathing heavily, eventually chuckling out a laugh on the exhale.

“Been wanting to do that for a while.” You can hear the smile in his voice with your eyes still closed. His hands on your back, his forehead against yours. You feel like every atom in your body is on fire. For a while, he had said. For a while, you thought back, that I have been missing out on every moment like this.

“Should’ve done it sooner, then. Thought it was just me feeling like this.” You said, a deep sigh erupting from your chest. He can hear the smile in your voice too.

One hand leaves it place at your waist to hold your face. Не pulls further away to look down at you. He’s still smiling.

“And I thought it was just me.”

There’s a little bit of an ache in your chest. A bit of sadness on how long you both had wasted hiding away from each other. But neither of you are hiding now. You press your palm against his chest and feel his heart beat under his shirt. It’s fast, just like yours.

A moment passes before you both realise there is more than each other left in the word. The sky has darkened considerably, the sun settling in the early evening. Neither of you had eaten and you were both starting to feel a hunger for something other than each other.

“We should probably head back to camp.” You say, still unmoving from your proximity to him. Neither of you want to leave this moment.

“Probably. And you can show off everything you’ve learnt today.” He says. He still cradles your face in his hands, his thumb moving softly back and forth on the apple of your cheek.

“Everything I’ve learnt?” You smirk up at his, loosing your previous fixation of your hand on his chest. He chuckles, and he feel the movement of his chest course right through you.

“Maybe not everything.” He replies, his eyes soft as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel the moment come to a close. Not wanting to waste any last second you could spend alone with Arthur like this, after having missed out on so many others in the past, you cling to every bit of it. Before either of you can detach from the other, you grab him by his shirt collar again and pull him down for another kiss.

Additional Content:

You both depart from Arthur’s horse a little before necessary as you make the journey back to camp. The horse clambers along behind you both. You’re both pensive and quiet, but when your hand grazes against his from it’s place by your side, Arthur grasps it and keeps it intertwined with his. You walked further before Arthur’s stops to a sudden holt, his grip on your hand forcing you to stop with him.

“Almost forgot.” He murmured, looking bashful as his cheeks blushed red. He reached down with his other hand, not loosing his hold on your hand, grabbing hold of the pistol you had practiced with and holding it out to you.

You aren’t sure what he means so you respond by raising your eyebrows at him and waiting for him to expand.

“S’a gift. For you. Got it custom in town for ya.” He’s still blushing but he manages to glance into your eyes. He’s searching for something, and you realise he’s worried about how you’ll respond.

You can see the engraving on the gun more clearly now as it rests in his hand. Flowers, your favourite, blooming up through an imprint on the outside of the metal. Your name intertwines with the flowers, the letters flowing into the blossoming leaves.

You reach out towards his outstretched hand, but instead of grabbing the pistol you clasp your hand together with his and pull yourself towards him. You press a small kiss to his lips and as you pull away you smile at him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say looking up at him, hoping he found what he was searching for before, “for everything.

#rdr x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan #Arthur Morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Denial

König x F!reader

As chosen by my lovely blorbos and followers 👹

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut ahead

It can be a surprise for you so no more warnings

Staring at the clock it read 02:00, he should be home soon. Excitement brewed in your stomach at the thought of your boyfriend finally finishing his 4 month long mission. Finally being in the same country as you. Finally being in the same room as you. Finally being about to touch you. It had been too long.

It had been too long for König too. Four months of you torturing him, sending him videos of you cumming on your fingers, on your toys. Moaning his name, your body writhing on the Egyptian cotton sheets of your shared bed. He'd pumped his cock far too many times to even get any satisfaction anymore. He needed to feel you, all of you.

Led on your side you heard the slam of a car door, a devilish grin spread over your lips. Knowing full well the four months of pictures and videos you sent him would have made him feral, you couldn’t wait for him to take the frustration out on you.

The front door slammed shut.

Heavy foot steps trudged up the wooden stairs, leading to your room.

Butterflies tickled your rib cage as they swarmed around your heart.

He was home.

The door opened, as you pretended to be asleep you heard him drop his bag down and go to the bathroom. The anticipation was killing you. The shower turned on and you heard the droplets of water smash against his skin. His warm soft skin. You kept facing away from the door still pretending to be asleep.

The shower switched off and you heard him drying himself off as he walked back into your shared room. The bed dropped as he slid in behind you, a soft grunt escaped his lips as he settled down. That’s when a strong arm encased your waist yanking you towards him. ‘I know you’re not sleeping maus’ he whispered, his breathed fanning over your skin. He placed a tender kiss behind your ear as he pulled you closer still.

You could feel his erection poking into your lower back, subconsciously you rolled you hips back into him. Still staying silent. He snaked his hand into your pyjama shorts and along you slit, pleasantly surprised to find you already soaking. ‘Already maus? Miss me that much?’ He taunted whilst he nipped your earlobe.

A quiet ‘yes’ broke from your lips as you turned your head to kiss him. Stopping you he hovered above your ear a devilish smirk on his face. ‘Not tonight, you really think you could send me those pictures and videos? And not get punished?’ A needy yet subtle whimper escaped from your chest at his words.

Dragging his finger along your slit his pressed on your clit, ‘what do good girls get?’ He asked, moving his finger in a delicate circle. ‘Good things’ you signed.

‘And what to bad girls get?’ He asked again, still making circle motions. ‘Nothing’ you whined, you’d missed his touch for so long you were half way to orgasm already. ‘Exactly’ he chided, and with that he removed his finger bringing it to his mouth, savouring your taste on his tongue.

Pulling your shorts down he placed his aching cock at your entrance. ‘Please König’ you half sobbed, knowing exactly what he was going to do. ‘Should have thought of this before you teased me for so long. You get nothing. I’m gonna cum … but you’re not.’

He proceeded to slide his cock up and down your weeping cunt, gathering your juices as he did so. It felt divine, he’d missed you terribly but now was his chance to get his own back. He knew how much you needed him, how much you longed for him to fuck you. But he’d make you wait. The tip of his cock hit your clit with every stroke, sending you closer and closer to orgasm. But he knew your body, he knew the signs.

Removing his cock from you he pumped himself, breathing heavily in your ear. Soft moans and groans brushed against your skin, sending goosebumps across your aching body. A string of curses left him as he gently pushed his tip against your hole, not daring to push in any further. You panted beneath him, trying to contain a sob that built up in your chest.

This was torture.

He kept this pattern going, making sure to keep his movements excruciatingly slow. Making sure you drive you to the edge only to pull away at the last minute. Had it been minutes? Hours? You had no clue, losing all concept of time. He nipped at your neck as he whimpered, blowing hot air through his pursed lips as be savoured the feeling. ‘Fuck … König …. Fuck please’ you finally choked out, ‘I can’t … please … please.’

Releasing his cock he placed his hand around your neck, squeezing gently. ‘Oh darling, I expected more. That you could take … more.’ His tone was evil, you felt him smile against your cheek as he pushed his cock through your thighs once more. Tears were stinging the corners of your eyes as he continued to thrust against you, rather than in you. ‘Maybe you’ll think twice about teasing me next time hmm?’

‘Fuck … yes … I’m sorry’ you cried out as his hand caressed your body, working its way back down to his cock. He was a stubborn prick, you knew damn well he wasn’t going to let you cum tonight. That he was going to teach you a lesson. You gripped his huge arm that lay beneath you, digging your nails into his skin. He hissed in your ear as he rolled his hips into you. ‘Now now, you chose this maus. Be a good girl and take it.’

His voice was thicker than tar, deep and possessive as he made sure he moaned against your ear. Making your hear how you made him feel, how you’d tortured him for months. His hand picked up pace as he pumped his cock, revelling in your pleas and moans of contempt and frustration.

He brought you to the edge so many times, but withdrawing as soon as he felt you clench against him. Tutting in your ear as you bucked your hips, trying feverishly to feel some relief. You felt him become sloppy, knowing he was close. He bit his lip as he came against your neglected hole. You felt his cock pulsate against you as his cum painted your aching cunt.

Tears of frustration fell from your eyes as you whined in disbelief. He placed another tender kiss behind your ear as he used his finger to push his cum into you. The sudden intrusion of his thick finger sent a jolt through your body as you gasped for air. A strangled moan left your throat as you threw you head back onto his chest. He scoffed against your neck ‘always so needy and pathetic aren’t you?’

‘Mmm hmm’ you just about managed to moan through your tightly pressed lips. Eyes screwed shut as you savoured the sensation.

As he removed his finger you let out another whine ‘I fucking hate you.’ He chuckled deeply as he turned your head to face him, hovering just above your lips you felt the fucker smile as he kissed you. ‘I know.’

——-

Taglist (those who showed interest in the original post) - @brewed-pangolin @bearsbeetsbeskar

Inspiration from this tik tok - https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJmCNDVd/

#call of duty #cod mw22 #konig x you #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #könig smut #könig modern warfare #könig x reader #könig call of duty #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #könig fanfiction #könig x you

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dira333 · 2 months

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Spa-Day - Kyoutani x Reader

@notsochillnerd I did it, woohoo

The water is hot, but not too hot. If you could stay here forever, you probably would, floating on clouds of scented foam. The background music is a little annoying, but you can blend out the brainless tunes.

You put your head underwater, let your hair float until you have to come back up for air.

The sight has you squealing like a mouse, jumping back on instinct.

Kentarō is scowling at you, brows furrowed, nose barely above water level. He looks like he's just done planning your murder. And the murder of your family.

"Baby!" You press a hand to your chest, heart racing underneath your wrinkled skin. "You scared the shit out of me."

His brows unfurl and he blinks, one, two, three times.

"Sorry," he mumbles, voice so low you can barely catch it over the music and the sloshing of water. But you can feel his hands grab you by the hips, pull you in like he always does. "Didn't mean to."

"What got you so upset?" You ask, hands running through his wet hair. He's sitting on a ledge in the shallow part of the pool, a place that's normally bustling with activity, especially when the jacuzzi jets are turned on. But you always go to the bath in the early morning , when the pools are almost empty and no chatter drones out the annoying music.

"Nothing," Kentarō claims, "I think it's the music."

"Nuh-uh," it's your turn to furrow your brows at him. "You're lying. You know I can tell when you're lying. Tell me? Please?"

"Fine," He huffs, wrinkled fingertips playing with the strings of your bikini top. "Seno made a stupid comment at training."

"What about?"

He huffs again. Averts his eyes. You dig your fingertips into his side, right where he's the most ticklish. He pulls back and glares, but he opens his mouth.

"Spa Days are unmanly, apparently."

You snort. "Says who?"

"Seno."

"And Seno is the world's leading expert on manliness since when?"

Kentarō's lips pull up, even if just a little.

"Well, I told him to shove it, but... I don't know... it kinda stuck? I was thinking about it just now."

"Hmm..." You playfully put a finger against your lip as if you have to think really hard about it. "If you ask me, you're really manly. The manliest of them all. You could wear pink shirts to work and you'd still not lose any manliness."

Kentarō grins, proud and a little smug. He knows just how well he pulled of that pink shirt last date night.

"And?"

"And you never care about what other people think," you remind him, pressing a kiss between his brows before they start to furrow again, "So I don't think you should start doing that now. Especially not when it's Seno, who begged me to give him my friend's number."

"You're so right," Kentarō pulls you in.

Your proud grin vanishes just seconds later when he lifts you into the air.

"Don't you dare-" He drops like a stone, and you fall with him, pressed to his chest.

When you come back up, sputtering water and hair sticking to the side of your head, Kentarō's grinning from one ear to the other.

He looks so cute, you can't even be mad.

But he better watch out, because you're going to dunk him next chance you get.

my Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani fluff #kyoutani kentarou #aoba johsei #seijoh

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azandsstuff · 1 month

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The lonely seat~

Twisted Wonderland X Reader

Angst story

Summary : Both Grim and him try to make you stay after everything you had to endure because of them.

Other story that goes nice with this timeline : [X]

My list :[-]

A hand stops you from going any further. Or you may even say it was the paw that stopped you from going. You never once call him by this title but instead you always call him your 'son'. But today or even the many days that will come later you know something like 'Monster' fits him more than anything.

It's not just him that deserves that title. All of them deserve to be called and are actually a monsters. Before they always push you away. Away from them especially since you are so weak and worth nothing to them. But now they dare to stop you from going any further? How selfish are them to think they simple words can stop you from leaving?!

You know that on the other side of this portal is your home. Your real home. The one that has your real family and friends that always stay by your side no matter what. So why did you stop your feet right now to look back at them?

"Please don't go. Please stay with us. We need you. I need you..."

That monster says with a tear in his eyes. Your heart breaks a bit as you see the tears that are coming out of him. Your heart is too soft. You can't bring yourself to push them away. Not even now where it's your important choice to go. It was only because this place feels a lot more like home than you had before.

"You don't even know if that portal truly leads you to your home. So please stay with us. Stay with me."

That monster begs of you. Beg for you to stay. But do you really want to stay here? In this doomed world that always makes you miserable no matter what? No you should just go back to your world. It's the only right choice among the others.

Besides you no longer want to be a puppet. Or more correctly you no longer want to be marionette to these people. The fact that they think they can use you so easily and to think you won't notice they have been pulling your string non stop.

"[Name]"

Your name has been called. By him. The man who you thought was your lover and the man that would keep you company for your whole life while you stay here was the second mastermind behind all of this. He stole your heart and cast it aside as if it was worth nothing. He doesn't deserve any of those feelings that you have for him anymore. In fact he shouldn't even try to make you stay. Just the thought of him already makes you mad, now the fact that he also tried to stop you from leaving was really so petty of them.

"Don't even bother. I hate you. I hate all of you. Especially you both."

You said to them as you tears up. You see both of their faces have a pity look to convince you to stay . If it were past you, you were already coming running to them and hugging them tight as you can while comforting them in any way you can. But did you really mean it when you said that?

"I hate both of you and wish that we will never ever meet again! So give it back!"

You say as you shout at them as you hold out your hand. Before that hand would hold both of them dearly but now that hand feels so rough that it may as well resemble a sharp torn if it can.

"I want all the secrets and all of the memories that we have together. You guys never once deserve any of those. You guys don't even resemble a being that I love the most. Right now the monster will always be the correct answer if anyone asks me about you two"

"You don't mean it. [Name]. Please don't mean it..."

That monster plead you. As hard as he can to even cry much harder than before. The fire in his ear that always feels warm, now feels more hot than before and definitely can burn you if they want too. But somehow those things don't burn you.

"Please, mama/papa. Please stay with Grim..."

"Don't even try to call me that! Never once you call me that! And now you want to use that?! Don't make me laugh, you monster!"

You say in an angry tone before kicking that monster away from you. Gosh, right now all you can see is red. Does all of this anger come from all the pain that you have to endure? Is thus the reason why you can't even think straight?

"Please, [Name]. Listen to us! Why do you want to leave?"

"Why do you want me to stay?!"

You say to him as you can't even look properly anymore. That monster already stands up again thanks to him who helped him. But now that monster can't no longer walk properly and yet that monster still tries to walk to you. He holds your leg as the tears begging you to stop. Why are they so desperate to keep you here? What was it that they don't have enough? Why can't they let you go in such a happy state? Why must all be tears up and sad to look at or even anger already in it?

"How many people do you want to meet? How many souls do you want to steal? You should know by now that the portal is never the right answer. If you go to that portal you may as well die if you want all of us to forget about you!"

He shouted at you as he can no longer bare it anymore. Why is he crying? And why does he feel the sadness and anger right now? He doesn't deserve that! So is that monster! So why are both of them crying and holding your body part to make your stay? And why are you crying with them and don't push them away? Why are you here and don't go into that portal already?

"Both of you don't deserve any of these tears. Both of you don't even deserve to touch me. So why do I still let you guys touch me while I shed my tears here?"

You ask them as you cry. Right now somehow all the anger you feel before feels like nothing and vanishes all of the sudden. As if all of those anger mean nothing. But now you're sure of one thing.

Even if the other side of this portal is an endless void that will do nothing but kill you slowly, you will enter it. Even if your memory got reset and you sent it back here.

"So then stay here with us, mama/papa. Stay with us and you will never forget us. And I'm sure and will help you no matter what as you help me here to move"

"Yes,[Name]. Stay with us and we make sure you get all of your happy ending with us"

Happy ending?

A happy ending is never meant for you. You thought that you deserved it once but now and how the story goes, you know that you never deserve it from the start. You push both of them away from you before removing the necklace that you wear.

You always wear that necklace the moment you get it in your hand as it is the only way you get magic. You hold that necklace so tight in your hand before shattering it to the ground before looking and smiling at them.

"Don't worry the next time we meet I'm sure it's always nice to meet with hello"

You say before leaving them alone to join the other side. You don't even let them say anything or to even let them hold you tight anymore you just leave them with nothing to remember you anymore except the shatter magic stone that is once yours.

You don't even say goodbye or even bye to end this tragic story of them and don't even allow them to say one more to say to you. The word you wanting to hear from one of them is...

"I wait and stay here for you for this entire eternity..."

[NAME chose to end this story with tears that no one deserves.]

[End of the story]

[To be continued with a side ending]

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst imagines #twst mc #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #twst angst

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peiskos-and-apricity · 2 months

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My Oath to You

Týr x (GN)Reader

Summary - Týr has returned to you after more than a century of absence. Completely overwhelmed by his sudden appearance you can't bring yourself to believe that your long lost lover has finally come home.

Word count - 1.7k

Masterlist

Years. Years you had spent apart. Without him your days bled together, your nights full of restless heartache. By the second decade you had believed him truly gone; his comforting care ripped from your hands. You had mourned him, had buried him in the permanent scar he left behind. He had become an old melancholy memory.

And yet now, impossibly, you stand before him. His soft features are as still as your own, his warm eyes staring into your very being. You would have thought him a ghost, a mere apparition had he not held the arrow that had missed the mark of his chest by a nails edge. An arrow that left your fingers out of rage at the being who claimed to be your long-lost love. At an imposter.

The only thing that had cut through your rage long enough to stop your assault was the shining ring on his hand. A vow you had given, a promise, a shining beacon of what was supposed to be forever. You held your bow strong, but you were simply too blinded by that small binding sheen of what you had lost so long ago.

Silence, a painful, heart-wrenching silence. One that, through a tightened throat and weary hope, you spoke through.

"Do not..." You start, your voice shaking at just the sight of someone who would dare tell you that he wasn't gone.

"Do not lie to me" your anger bleeds into every word, but the slight shake of your hands shows your fragile state. Your face contorts into an ugly mix of fury-filled pain.

"My word is truth. I vowed no man nor God, no cage nor world would keep me from you. I would sooner have my spirit broken than that promise" his voice is soft, so memorably soft, his eyes showing a care you missed oh so dearly. When you didn't move he approached again, this time slowly, carefully, as if each step were a promise of its own.

And yet still you held strong. Even as tears well in your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow you do not dare let down your guard. You didn't turn from him, not for a second. You simply felt your chest tighten further, your mind screaming to let go, to kill the being who would do something as cruel as speaking the promises he knew naught of.

"My guiding star, I cannot bear any more distance. I have spent countless cold nights aching for the warmth of you" his sweet words are a lull against the grating yell of your own mind. Despite how much you try to block out the sound it effortlessly digs into you, plucking at the dusted strings of your heart in a melody only he ever knew. You knew you should pull away, that you should question this impossible situation further, but you can't seem to find the will to move from him.

Once he is in an arm's reach he slowly pushes the bow down, moving its arrow away from him like there was never a threat to his life. You didn't protest the movement, you couldn't bear to. Instead you turned away, your eyes shutting as tears fell from them, unable to look at this torturous apparition any further. Your grip finally loosened on the string.

"Please, don't turn from me" he pleaded as the warmth of his hand met your own, the bow falling to the ground. You tense at the touch, still unable to believe such a thing. But it isn't long before the warmth of him is far too tempting. Your hand grips his tighter, half expecting nothing to be there but feeling a surge of emotion when there is.

"You're...You're a liar" you spit through grated teeth and choked back sobs.

"You aren't- he's..." You try to lash out, try to fight against this horrible lie. But gods forgive you, there is no part of you that can bear to pull away.

"You're not real" you whispered the painful words in a weakening tone as you felt his presence step closer, only inches from you now.

"I am, my love...I am" he whispers back, your hand squeezing tighter as you try to hold the pieces of yourself together. Ever so gently he lays his head against yours, a shaky breath leaving him.

For a moment there is silence. One so quiet you could practically hear your strength cracking into pieces. A silence so painful that you can only bear to be in it so long as you hear his thumping heart and shallow breath.

"Words fail me. I cannot begin to tell you the ways I have missed you" his words strike through your being in a flash of bittersweet. He was nothing if not a man of many beautiful words and it was a rare day when he didn't have a poet's tongue. But his voice breaks and his grip on you tightens ever so slightly. A pleading is found in how desperately he clings.

"You haven't a clue" you choke out, no longer able to hold your front of fury.

"I have mourned you. You were dead to the world. Dead to me" you speak through the threat of sobs in your throat. He pulls away ever so slightly, an absence you feel so deeply that you must restrain yourself from diving back into his hold. But he seems to do that for you when he takes both hands to either side of your face. He wipes the tears that fall like rivers from you and you notice then that his own rivers fall as well. But even through the clear pain of so many years apart, he still looks at you like he would steal the sun just to keep you warm. And you knew, deep down in that part of your soul you had spent so many years trying to carve out, that it would only take the slightest shiver from you for him to consider it.

"I might not know what it is to mourn your loss, but I have mourned the pain of the lifetime I couldn't share with you. I have spent each day yearning for nothing else and knowing you were just beyond my grasp" as he gazes into your eyes you can see the saddened smile that meets his lips. How sweet his smile always was. No matter through tears or tough times, his smile always found a way to calm you. Which is why it hurts so much when it slowly falls from his lips, his eyes shut as a labored breath leaves him.

"Please...speak to me. Say whatever you will but I simply cannot stand the silence" his voice is quiet, his words a pleading request. With a deep breath you soon hold the hands he held you with, fingers stroking scars you didn't recognize.

"I..." You lose the words you wished to say just as quickly as you had thought to say them. You had spent so long wishing for him back, pleading that he might still somehow come home. You would have hung every star in the sky if it meant you would be able to hold him for just one more night. But now that you're here, faced with the reality that you had begged for a love you never lost, you could really only find one thing to say.

"I love you" the words fall with practiced ease. There is not a being strong enough to ever rip away the effortlessness with which you found your care for him.

"I have loved you for as many flakes of snow have fallen in your absence. I have loved you for as many nights as I have wished on flickering stars for you back. I have loved you, I have loved you, I have-" you are hardly surprised when his lips suddenly meet your own, however you couldn't have predicted just how overwhelming the action would be. Lips moved in ways so intimately familiar to the both of you. Hands gripped tighter as if the dream might end should you let go, the salty taste of tears is ignored by the both of you. The two of you moved as if to make up for the more than a century of lost affection, slow and gentle and desperate, a silent cry to be so close you become one.

And, ever so slowly and with a hesitance the two of you rarely ever knew, your lips parted. His breath softly fell on your face, a closeness you had longed for so many nights to feel again. His head gently rested upon yours once more and you could only hope to never feel his absence ever again.

"Would you...promise me something?" Your voice is still so quiet, too afraid that any sudden noise would break this tentative peace.

"Anything" he answers back. You can't help the warmth that falls at just how quickly he answers.

"Promise me that I will never lose you again" your words are as soft as the first time you had ever asked such a thing of him. The short silence that follows hurts you a little, your worry mounting in it.

"We both know that is a vow I cannot make" his words are familiar, a horrible reality that he never allowed you to forget. It only ever made you hold on tighter to him.

"But," he continues. One of his hands reaches to your own before carefully pulling it to his lips and kissing the jeweled ring you would never dare to lose. One he had traveled many strange worlds to make for you.

"With every ounce of strength I still hold I will not stop fighting for every fleeting moment we have. That is what I can promise" his words, as bittersweet as they are, do comfort you. They are reminiscent of a vow made so many lifetimes ago. One that he would repeat to the end of time itself. You gently take his hand as well, your lips meeting the gold band that binds him to you.

"Then that is the promise I will hold us to"

#Týr is so kind and gentle and patient and I love him #gn reader #gow ragnarok #gowr #god of war x reader #god of war #gow tyr #gow tyr x reader #gow Týr #gow ragnarok x reader #gow ragnarok tyr #týr gow #Týr #gow #gender neutral reader #self insert

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