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eelnoise · 8 months

Text

Sweat

18+ NSFW

tags: zoro x afab reader, oral (receiving), praise, unprotected sex, creampie, soft zoro if you squint, olfactophilia

a/n: in honor of OPLA and my birthday i wanted to finally post a self indulgent smut fic!! enjoy y'all.

The heat was too much.

Another day on the open sea, you find yourself curled up close to what shade you could still find on the deck despite the scorch of the midday sun.

It was still far cooler outside the Thousand Sunny than within its walls, leaving you with little choice but to weather what disdain you had for the temperature. The ocean breeze helped, but it was doing nothing for the sweat that coated your back.

You're content enough to tilt your head backward, letting your eyes close while you listen to the various chatter from your fellow Strawhats. This worked well enough to distract you from the heat.

That is, until you hear a pair of heavy footsteps approach followed by a sudden weight in your lap. You open one eye and peer down, though you already know what you'll find. And sure enough, you're met with the sight of Zoro resting his head across your thighs.

His eyes are closed, face turned toward your belly and away from the sun. You can't help but smile, even if his head wasn't helping your current disposition to the weather. "Zoro." You say, taking a finger to trace around his ear, gently clinking his three earrings together as you go. "It's too hot for this. Can't you take a nap somewhere else?"

"Shut up." Zoro murmurs. "I'm comfortable."

You laugh softly in reply, moving to rest your hand upon his head to lightly scratch his scalp. You knew he enjoyed the touch and craved the affection that only you could bestow upon him.

It'd taken a long time for you to get Zoro to crack. Being a nightowl yourself, you'd found yourself paired together for many late night watches, and, through endless trials of your patience, had been able to successfully pick his brain and get the swordsman to open up.

Zoro had grown close to you, the man finding the calm aura that you emit oddly comforting at first. Over time the two of you forming a bond that felt closer than kin. What had started as small talk in the crow's nest soon became hours long conversations about plethoras of subject matter lost to the long nights of which they were spoken. Eventually, he'd even get comfortable enough to totally relax in your presence, which ultimately led you to your current position as his personal pillow for a nap.

For Zoro, your compassion was heavenly. You were so soft, so soft and so sweet-tempered. The comfort of your pliable thighs beneath his head and neck was his favorite spot to sleep after a long training session. You're soft for him, so you let him rest. And despite the fact that his breath is hot on your torso, you find yourself dozing off alongside him.

He wakes up on his back, and after a moment he's met with the smell of what could only be the delectable mix of the floral soap you use and the sweat coating your body. One slate gray eye opens to look upon your snoozing face and he can't help but smile at how peaceful and calm you look. But god, do you smell so good. With one quick look around the deck to ensure you're both alone, Zoro turns to his side again to breathe in your scent and something within in synapses activates. He can't get enough of you as he presses his face into your shirt and wraps one large arm around your back and squeezes you tightly with enough force to stir you back into the waking world.

You groan, slowly opening and blinking the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. The weight on your lap is still there, and you peer down at him fully expecting him to still be asleep, but your gaze was met with his own. Zoro's cheek is still pressed to your shirt, and upon seeing you wake he grins. "Why're you lookin' at me like that?" You ask with a sleepy smile of your own, voice rasp with sleep and returning your hand to his head. "Because now," He begins, reaching up to grab your wrist and bringing it to his lips. "I can do this." A few kisses to your skin are given before you feel his tongue slide up your forearm.

Your eyes widen as your skin flushes with a blush. "What brought this on?" Your voice is just slightly shaky as you fight a chill down your spine as he traces his tongue along your arm. Zoro hums, lips sucking slightly upon your skin before he releases your arm. "You." He says, moving to sit up from your lap to look directly into your eyes. And before you can even think he's caught your lips in a hungry kiss, one you reciprocate eagerly. Your arms wrap around his shoulders in response to the two strong arms now currently enveloping your back that held you close.

Zoro releases your mouth to trail kisses along your jaw and neck, making damn sure to swipe his tongue along your salty-sweet flesh and savour just how good you tasted. Your breath grows heavier by the second, soft gasps begin to escape your lips and it sounds like music to his ears. "Fuck, you taste divine." The swordsman groans into your ear before biting your earlobe just hard enough to make you whine. "Zoro…" You whisper, leaning your head forward with another gasp of excitement. "We shouldn't do this here."

You were right, if this were to continue he'd need to take you elsewhere, but he didn't want to remove his mouth from you, couldn't part with the delicious meal in his arms. "I know." Zoro replies, using all he has within him to force his lips away. It pains him, but he parts from you for just long enough to stand and scoop you into his arms with ease. "That's why I'm taking you to my bunk."

Zoro carries you away from the blazing sun and into the ship proper, all the while you take the time to pepper his neck in kisses of your own, a gesture rewarded by both his thick fingers digging into your thigh and a low grunt from his throat. You giggle, thoroughly enjoying the small and rare opperunity of power that you wield over him. "Stop that." He says, smacking your thigh as if scolding you. "No." You murmur into the crook of his neck, the smirk on your face audible in your words. When you bite lightly down on his shoulder he growls and squeezes your ass with enough force to warn that you were in for it now.

The door to his quarters seems to open on its own, both too lost in the moment to notice the mundane. He shoves you against the door, unable to wait any longer to absolutely ruin you. Holding you up by your thighs, you wrap your legs around his waist and feel as his cock throbbing painfully against the confines of his pants. You look at him with a heavy lidded gaze that makes his breath hitch with anticipation. "Mine."

You feel your body shift into a state of arousal. His words hot onto your ear make you clench around nothing, your pussy aching in desire from little more than a kiss. You're taken into another long, passionate kiss, and as Zoro slips his tongue between your lips to meet yours, you feel his large hand move from your hip to your back. He moved you slowly across the way to his bed and gently pressed you down onto it.

The kiss broke only for Zoro to trail his lips along your jawline and down to your neck. He's peppering your flesh with swipes of his tongue and grazes of his teeth that leave behind goosebumps. You writhe beneath him, a sharp chill going down your spine as he keeps his mouth locked upon your body.

The sounds falling from your lips drive him crazy, and before you can process it, Zoro has slipped a hand beneath your t-shirt. Large digits envelop your breast, kneading the supple skin and teasing a nipple between two fingers, causing you to unleash an absolutely filthy series of moans.

You hear him smirk, clearly pleased with the effect he's having on you. "You're so soft." He whispers in your ear, finally removing his mouth from sliding up and down your neck. Zoro's free hand moves to raise your shirt up to your shoulders and you feel the air hit your bare chest, and at once he's replaced his fingers with his mouth.

He's only just begun to taste you again, and he plans on savoring it. The swordsman sucks upon your sensitive bud, and when he bites down you squeal. "Z-Zoro…" His name upon your tongue in that lust-filled tone drives a low groan from his throat. "Yeah?" Zoro says, his mouth releasing your nipple just for a moment. "You like that?" You nod, one of your own hands moving to rest on his head. "Feels so good." Comes your low, raspy voice, the words reverberating in his ears.

Your whines of pleasure spur him onward and his lips are upon your flesh again. His tongue traces down your chest and along your torso, nipping and kissing and simply tasting your skin in his wake. Fingers slip below the hem of those shorts that set him off, his single eye looks up at your face then, brows slightly raised as if asking for permission. You nod, humming in reply to his silent query. Zoro wastes no time, sliding your shorts off and pressing kisses to your waist and hip as he bares the skin beneath the fabric.

Your shorts are removed and tossed aside, shortly followed by your panties. Zoro had already long positioned himself between your legs, but as he looks upon you in this state, bare and presenting yourself to him like a fucking gift, he's going positively feral. On moment's notice, Zoro dips his head between your legs, drawing out a long lick to your inner thighs before pressing a kiss to your bare pussy.

"Fuck!" You breathe in sharply, the touch you so anticipated finally giving a bit of relief to your aching core. Your hand entangles into his hair, grasping his moss-green locks tightly as Zoro begins to taste your slick drenched folds. Its not long before you're melting into the mattress, lost in the swordsman's ministrations along your dripping cunt.

You taste divine. He can't get enough of slurping over your clit, your juices covering his lips and dripping down his chin, and when two thick fingers slip into your hole your back arches, another throaty, sinful moan of his name emanating from your throat. Zoro's working you so well, sucking your clit and stretching you out in a way that had you already seeing stars. He loops your legs around his shoulders to better feast upon you, free hand holding you down by the hip in a death grip.

His fingers are deep enough to hit that delicious spot within you, and he realizes this when you cry out in pleasure and tighten your inner walls around his digits. He murmurs something that sounds like a curse, but you're too far gone to hear properly. Eyes glazed over in desire, you lull your head back onto the pillow and pull on his hair tightly.

The heavenly mantra of illicit and salacious sounds you sing out for him made his cock throb so much and so hard that Zoro couldn't stop himself from releasing your sweet pussy and quickly freeing his aching arousal from the confines of his pants and boxers. Zoro had wanted you to cum on his tongue, around his fingers, but you were just too good. Too hard to ignore how much he needed you carnally.

You whine at the loss of his mouth on you, but as soon as you feel the length of his dick pressing against your slit the sound trails into a long, needy moan. "Zoro, fuck." You say, sitting up on your elbows to watch both his face and the oncoming meeting of your hips. "That's the idea." He replies, a smirk on his lips as he pulls your legs over his waist and presses a kiss to your ankle.

With one hand he aligns himself up with your dripping core, and as he presses his considerable length between your folds you find yourself gripping onto the sheets. Zoro watches as he stretches you out, his pace starting slow as he leans forward to place his hands on both sides of your waist. You're already a mess under him, the plush, wet walls of your cunt sucking him in as he slowly bottoms out within you.

As the tightness of your pussy envelops his cock fully, Zoro quickens his pace, and soon enough he's snapping into you without any sort of consistent rhythm. You're unbothered by this, content to allow him to fuck you any way he needed to. You can feel each stroke he gives you and it's heavenly. Hands grab hold of his wrists, your much smaller fingers circling his forearm as you hold on for dear life.

Zoro isn't one to talk, even during sex. The only sounds coming from him are low grunts and growls of pleasure, and each time you clench around him they'd grow in both frequency and volume. Meanwhile, you're loud. Just loud and giving in totally to the moment. His eye rolls onto your face, and he nearly cums then and there. Your pleased expression, the way your mouth seemed to permanently be open, kiss swollen lips belting out a hymn that tied his stomach in a knot, it was overwhelming.

His pace quickens in response to this, and he's fucking into you so fast that you can't even speak. You're trying to vocalize how good you feel, sputtered and drawn out attempts of speech escape your throat, each one interrupted by way of his cock tip hitting your cervix. Nails dig into his forearms and your back arches. The way you're fluttering your walls around him tells him you're close and he takes the oppertunity to release one side of your waist to rub your clit. "So good for me." Zoro huffs out, his tone just as desperate and raspy as yours has been. "Gonna cum, baby? All over this cock?"

You can only respond with a nod, having long given up on speaking. He smirks, knowing you're at the precipice of ecstasy. "Tell me." Zoro demands, the hand on your waist digging it's nails into your flesh. You can hear and feel your skin slapping together against his, the lewd sound bringing you even closer. "Z-Zoro! Don't s-stop…" You cry out, hips trying and failing to twitch under his strong grip. "I'm so close!"

He growls in finality, the speed of his thrusts just as quick as his hand that teased your clit. You were so… so close, and he moved to push one of your thighs to your chest to rut into your cunt at an angle that sent you over the edge. A sharp, obscene yell of his name fills the room as you cum around his cock, your head rolling back again onto the mattress as you breathlessly ride out your high.

Your release sends him over the edge in turn, a final, mind-numbing sprint against your hips against his takes over. He curses under his breath as large arms wrap around your back. Zoro's kneeled over your body now, the tips of his hair tickling the sensitive skin of your belly as he chases his own release. He can't think about anything else aside from you, the way you look, the way you sound, it's all too much. With a few loud grunts and breathy murmurs of your name he fills you to the brim with his cum, spending so deep within you that you could feel his cock twitch wildly.

You both sit in the embrace for a moment before he releases his grip on your lower half and slides out of you, landing right next to you on the mattress and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close to him. Your hand moves to cup his cheek as you press a quick kiss to his lips. Zoro smiles and kisses your forehead in return. "Told you that you tasted good."

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader smut #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece smut #one piece #one piece x y/n #zoro smut

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cordeliawhohung · 2 days

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Of Sea Foam and Iron [3]

general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

a storm hits

wc: 3.9k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, nudity, talk of war and gore

Cold linens awaited you when you truly woke from your rest as John and Simon’s presence had dissipated.

There was no chin to rest against the top of your head, or a strong chest to press against your back. In fact, the only proof that they had ever been there at all was their lingering scent on your skin. You closed your eyes as soon as they fluttered open, trying to draw back the memory of their hands on your waist and the comforting weight that accompanied it. It was only a pale imitation of the real thing, and it left your chest yearning for something you knew you would never gain the courage to ask for.

When your eyes opened for a second time, they did so with a great huff from your lungs. Pale sunlight and a strong breeze drifted through the cracks of the closed shutters, and though salt was always ever present in the air, you could smell the promise of rain hiding underneath the brine. It would be a good day to stay inside.

Usually you didn’t need your himation in the warm summer months, but without the golden sun to warm the house, a heavy chill pricked at your body. You wrapped the thick wool around your shoulders before you descended downstairs on creaky steps. Simon was already hard at work for the day, and you hardly got halfway to the landing before you heard his hammer echo with its metallic clink in the courtyard. All Simon had done since the day the two of you were bound together in matrimony was work. In the beginning, you were certain that it was to distance himself from you — his unruly wife — but once John returned home you thought he would allow himself to rest. Yet, it seemed as if that’s all the man ever wanted to do.

“Mornin’ little dove,” John grinned.

A strong fire blazed in the central hearth of the home where dancing flames attempted to lick John’s back as he sat faced away from his hard work. Blue eyes sparkled with a warmth that rivaled the fire behind him, and you almost felt a smile flitter across your lips. There was nothing different from his gaze that morning compared to the previous day, yet his fingers twitched as they rested on his bent knees as if they searched for something.

“Morning,” you replied, voice meek as you adjusted your himation.

Johnny’s hand slipped off of his knee where he patted the hearth next to him invitingly. “Come, get warm.”

Your bare feet hardly made a sound against the floor as you crossed into the threshold. Each step brought the warmth of the flames along your legs where they dethawed your cold toes and fingers. John watched you with careful eyes as you situated yourself on the stone slab next to him, and he hummed once you settled. Heat prickled up your spine and it chased away the residual morning cold that clung to your body; though, you were unable to tell if that was because of the fire, or because of John.

“Rain is coming,” he said. His head tilted back to look up at the ceiling as if it were the sky instead. “A storm, maybe.”

Over the roaring of the fire behind you, a dull roll of thunder grumbled somewhere in the distance. It was not frequent that your city received storms, as Poseidon often smiled upon you. Though one could argue he was angry, if the storm was mild, perhaps he only sent the rain to assist with the farmers and their crops.

“That would be nice,” you mused.

John chuckled warmly. “You like the rain?”

“I think so,” you answered. “I like the water. The ocean.”

“A fine thing to love.”

Instinct told you to look at him, yet you refrained from doing so. Despite the familiarity in the tone of conversation, John was still a stranger to you. Some man who had returned only yesterday to embrace your husband while dressed to gut enemies. Still, he was kind, but despite the fire at your back, you were silent and cold.

“I… wanted to talk more about yesterday,” John continued through your silence. “I’m sure you still have many questions, as Simon isn’t the most prolific.”

“Prolific?” you repeated with your snark hardly restrained. “He’s spoken a handful of words to me since we’ve been married.”

“Like I said, quiet,” he repeated with a poorly hidden laugh. “Though, I wasn’t much help prompting answers from him yesterday, either. Dead on my feet after traveling. Took us just short of a fortnight to arrive home.”

John rubbed at his eyes as if the exhaustion still plagued his vision, and yet even with his movement you did not glance at him once. Looking at someone often brought a weakness about you that you had difficulty conquering. There was something about their eyes that had you see the humanity within them, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. You would have hated to crumble in front of him.

“Well,” you prodded, “perhaps you can get an explanation out of him, then. He spoke not a word of your existence and then introduced you as my second husband? Such terrible madness.”

“I already got an explanation out of him this morning while you slept,” he sighed. “Which is why I want to talk to you. I’m better at explaining things than Simon is.”

Bewildered, you finally allowed your eyes to fall on John. “Must you be so casual about this? Was this not a surprise to you? Coming home to your husband having wedded himself illegally to someone else?”

“Simon is not my husband.”

Your expression betrayed the icy exterior you used to conceal that softness inside. It was difficult to tell if it was because of your confusion, but you found your heart aching at those words. John could not look at you when he said them, and though they left his tongue with ease his tone was soaked in a somberness that burned.

“Soldiers aren’t permitted to marry,” he explained, blue eyes trained on the floor in front of him. “They say love gets in the way. Muddles things up. Soldiers have only one duty, and it’s to the state.”

He paused.

“I would have liked to have married him.”

If it wasn’t for the pain in his voice, you would have been afraid. The lost longing painted you to be the ruiner; the pitiful being that tainted something that had not gotten the opportunity to bloom. A desert-like dryness settled on your tongue. It tasted worse than sand. It was bitter, grainy, and promised to end you.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

“Don’t be,” John said with an attempt at humor. “I told him to find a wife. To get married. Have children. I would have hated for him to wait around forever just for me.”

“Could you not have waited? I thought soldiers were only required to serve for two years,” you pondered.

John hummed again. He did that often, as if song better suited his ideas than mere words. Thick fingers pressed into the joints of his wrists as he massaged tired muscles and traced faded scars before answering you.

“Most only serve for two years, yes,” he concurred. “But, you don’t earn the name Ares’s Dog by serving the minimum. My heart is here in the city, but my home is in the viscera leftover from battle.”

He paused as he twisted his torso to look behind him. A large hand reached for a split log in the pile just next to the fire, and John expertly tossed it into the flames. The fire cracked loudly, content with its meal.

“No. I told him to marry, so it wasn’t quite the surprise when I came home and you were already here,” he explained as he repositioned himself. “Find a wife. Start a family. And if his wife would have me too, then I would stay. But it seems things weren’t that simple considering your… situation.”

“Yes,” you concurred, voice soft. “It wasn’t… proper.”

“Simon told me what your father had to do to protect you. I’m sorry you had to witness such gore,” Johnny consoled. “I understand why he would hastily marry you off to Simon if it meant having the protection you deserve. And, well, knowing Simon as well as I do, he didn’t hesitate at all in marrying you if it meant aiding you.”

A scoff tore through your vocal chords so fierce it left a sour aftertaste on your tongue. John spoke of Simon as if he were Apollo himself, guiding the sun across the sky to bring light and warmth to the soil beneath your feet. You were certain that John’s feelings towards Simon weren’t unfounded at all, but though he had never been cruel or unkind to you in any way, he was not loving. Not to you, anyway.

“Could have fooled me,” you spat. “I feel like a ghost in this house. At least he avoids me like one.”

Despite your sour attitude and words, John only chuckled.

“His love is strange, yes,” he said. “It’s still new to him; love. Being vulnerable. Something he was never granted before. He’ll keep his distance, if you let him. I swear to you, you’ll find no finer man than him.”

Another roll of thunder shook the sky. It was stronger than the quiet whisper of one you heard minutes earlier, and it all but demanded attention. Both you and John looked up to the ceiling, and moments later the soft trickle of rain engulfed the house. Though none of the windows were open, you pulled your himation closer to you as if to stave off the breeze that beat at the shudders. The thick wool soaked up the heat of the fire like a sponge, keeping you well insulated despite the impending storm.

A content sigh left John as he carefully pushed himself to his feet. Soft trails of goosebumps prickled across his skin as he stepped away from the fire and into the cold, but he didn’t stray far before turning to face you once more. His hands reached for you where they hovered in the air, patiently waiting for you to accept his offer.

“Come. We should eat,” he urged.

It was not your first time putting your hands in his. He always seemed to want to hold you and gently guide you as if you did not know any better. Still, you accepted his assistance as he pulled you from the hearth. Somehow, his hands were warmer than the flames, and though you were standing on your own, he refused to let you go.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, blue eyes boring into you. “I told Simon to find a wife, and if she would have me, then I would stay. If you do not wish for me to be here, say the word, little dove. Your father might have wanted for you to be under my protection, but I will not share a bed with a woman who would want someone else. I will leave no mark on this place when I go, if that’s what you wish.”

No response rose in your mind or throat at his reminder, but a heavy fit of remorse weighed on your chest. He spoke those words as if he were the intruder. As if he had not loved Simon and lived in that house long before you ever came around. It was difficult to tell if you had fully accepted the idea that you lived with two men; though even if you hadn’t, it was something your father obviously wanted for you. Still, even if you didn’t want him around, you would not deny him the flesh and warmth of his lover.

“Stay,” you said, voice quiet.

John’s smile was the warmest you had ever seen. No hint of lust or darkness; only a pure appreciation for your kindness, something you felt like you weren’t capable of those days. His tongue darted out between his lips as if in anticipation, and you ignored the way it made your stomach churn.

“Then it is done.”

Trickling rain continued into the afternoon before it started to swell into a proper storm. Whistling wind became near deafening as it threatened to pull the house apart, and it wasn’t until the sky was black with clouds that Simon finally ceased his work and took shelter inside. With the amount of water that dripped from his clothes when he came limping into the kitchen for lunch, you were surprised he hadn’t drowned out there. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead and down the nape of his neck, and his chiton clung to his body in a way that certainly wasn’t comfortable. His frigid skin tinged pink with his scars extra angry and puffy.

Both you and John looked up from your food at the sopping wet mess of a man who dirtied the kitchen. Simon’s chest heaved with fatigue, and his feet hardly lifted from the ground as he meandered towards John.

“How’s the weather?” John asked facetiously.

“Frustrating,” Simon huffed. “Can’t keep a goddamn fire lit or burnin’ hot enough.”

He paused once he approached John’s side, eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him. Without a word, he snatched a fair size of cured meat off of it before taking a bite and turning around. Simon continued his pitiful shuffle as he exited the kitchen, shoulders hunched and legs shaking. John did not appear to mourn the loss of his food, yet his eyes stayed trained unwavering on his lover’s body as he rounded the corner.

“He seems upset,” you noted.

“He’s in pain,” John explained.

A clash of thunder sounded just as John rose from his chair, and he left his plate behind as he began to rummage for something around the stove. Its embers ebbed and waved with brilliant scarlet light, and it almost danced to life in flames when John knelt before it. He retrieved two medium sized, semi-flat stones tucked into the stonework and placed them on the small hearth next to the dying embers. Nodding to himself, he then turned to you, worry etched deep in his face.

“Wait a few minutes, then grab these stones and bring them up to our chamber,” he asked while his feet began to wander out of the room. “They’ll be hot, so grab them with cloth. Take care not to burn yourself.”

Without another word, he vanished out of the room where you then heard his feet stomping up the stairs moments later. Rain refused to quiet nor waver even as you carefully cleaned up yours and John’s plate.

Pain? Simon was in pain? Well, John could certainly read your husband better than you could, because you thought he had just been his regular self. Still, you supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible. With as many scars that afflicted his body, you were certain the damage ran deeper than just superficial marks on his skin.

As instructed, you waited until the rocks had soaked plenty of warmth before using the edge of your himation to grab them. With careful hands, you trekked up the stairs to the second floor where you found John and Simon in bed together. A drenched chiton sat on the floor next to the bed, but Simon’s naked body still glistened with the memory of its moisture. His chest heaved and he grunted like an animal as he slung an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the light of the oil lamp that flickered on the nightstand.

John’s thumbs dug into the muscle around Simon’s knees, massaging them with what appeared to be less than gentle touch. Simon hissed, jaw flexing as his teeth grinded together, yet he kept still as the man worked at him. You approached the side of the bed with hands outstretched, hot rocks tucked together underneath thick wool sitting in your palms.

“Is he alright?” you questioned.

John paused long enough to turn and grab the stones from your hands. His fingers didn’t flinch when he grabbed them, as if he was so used to the heat of them that it no longer phased him.

“It’s the weather,” he explained. “The old wounds in his knees are aggravated by the change.”

You watched with apprehension as John pressed the rocks against Simon’s skin, yet your husband didn’t flinch. The tense muscles that flexed in his thighs slowly began to soften as John moved the rocks carefully around his knee, tracing the long scar that dissected his skin. It was one of the first things you noticed about him the day you got married. Deep and ugly, it ailed him so bad he couldn’t walk straight because of it; forever bound to limp in weakness despite the strong stature his body would otherwise have you believe.

Another smaller scar mirrored in perfect continuity on his other knee. It was not as deep nor as angry, but you could clearly make out the line in which both scars connected. A blade. It must have been. There was no other weapon that you knew of that could’ve created a scar such as that. His entire body, even his face, was littered with the unsightly marks.

Why would a blacksmith have such scars?

John moved from one knee to the next, warm rocks soothing away the ache so deep in Simon’s body that hands alone could not heal. You quietly stole a seat on the mattress next to Simon, and you carefully watched the mesmerizing motions of John’s circling hands. He was so… soft for a soldier. Considerate. It’s a side of man you weren’t used to seeing after witnessing such violence in your home. For a while, you thought love was just violence; blood waiting to be spilled. Perhaps love was just warm rocks against tired skin.

“What happened?” you asked with eyes still trained on the old wound.

John’s eyes glanced up at Simon, who wasn’t able to see his gaze through the arm slung over his face. As if he felt the burn of his eyes, the man shifted on the bed before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Tell ‘er, Johnny. Know you like tellin’ the story,” he urged.

A grin bloomed on John’s face as he turned his attention back to Simon’s knee. “He got this from saving my life.”

Stunned, you shifted on the mattress to get closer, and your thigh brushed against Simon’s leg. How your husband could handle the cold of your chambers completely naked and half wet was beyond you. Your body yearned for any warmth it could steal.

“I don’t believe it,” you countered.

Really, you didn’t. How could John MacTavish, hailed hero of your city, need any sort of saving? You didn’t at all doubt Simon’s capability of saving someone; it was just the thought that John could ever find himself in such a precarious situation that you doubted.

“I’d never lie to you, little dove,” John chuckled. “No, Simon and I served together, once upon a time ago. Trained together. Fought together.”

He paused his story in order to switch knees again, returning to the one closest to him. Simon’s breathing had already calmed, and he no longer panted like a mad dog. Any tension that had been harbored in his body when you first entered the chambers had almost been completely washed away.

“Years ago both of us had been deployed in a large-scale battle. It was a bloody skirmish with swords flailing every which way, I swear the glint of metal was brighter than the sun that day,” John recalled. “But there was this big brute who fought with a club. Rivaled the size of Simon, even, which isn’t easy. Bastard snatched the shield right out of my hands and knocked his club against my chin. Split me right open and knocked me out cold.”

A hand instinctively covered your mouth as John shared the story, and he paused for a moment to look at you. He seemed to take some sort of boyish pride in your worry, and he tilted his chin up to put his own scar on display. You had hardly noticed it before due to his stubble and your active effort to not look too many people in the eyes, but it marked his skin as clear as day. It was deep, spanning from the front of his chin and curling underneath the right side of his jaw in an angry, red line.

“I wasn’t out long, of course, but I wasn’t all there when I woke up,” he continued. “Felt like I was underwater, could hardly breathe. Bastard stood over me ready to bash my head in like a damn melon when Simon swooped in like an eagle. Sliced him to bits before he could do anything else to me. But war is messy and unforgiving. Several others piled on him, got him pretty good. Still killed the bastards.”

“All but one,” Simon corrected. He had been so quiet you swore he had fallen asleep. “One of ‘em ran off.”

“He killed the bastards that weren’t cowards,” John amended with a chuckle. “But they got his knees. Surprised infection didn’t take him. But Simon, my love, stubborn man that he is, carried me off the field even with his wounds.”

“Would you rather I dragged you?” Simon asked.

“You should’ve left me there.”

“I love you too much for that.”

The sound of rain smothered the conversation as both men fell silent. Rotten shame boiled deep in your stomach as your eyes carefully scanned Simon’s body. Over the weeks, you had gotten so used to his unabashed nakedness to the point it didn’t phase you, but that wasn’t what made you feel shameful; it was the realization of how bitter you had been.

On the day of your wedding when Simon lifted your veil from your face, the only thing you could think was how ugly he was. The scars that littered his body were just eyesores, and his limp didn’t make him a paragon of strength. Hardly the man that was supposed to protect you from the wicked ways of the world. How cruel you were for thinking such a thing. For looking at the scars he earned saving the life of his lover as if they were an eyesore rather than proof of his devotion. How dare you look at him as anything less than he was; a man who loved?

In an attempt to swallow down your shame, you found your own hands reaching out for Simon’s knee. The heat of his skin felt nice against your frigid hands, but he flinched at the sensation. You paused as you looked up at his half obscured face, and you didn’t look away until you felt his muscles melt and relax underneath your touch.

In silence, you mimicked John’s movements with your thumbs. Tendons and muscle danced underneath your fingertips as you did your best to massage the pain from your husband. With hands as weak as yours, you were certain it hardly did anything to help him at all. Still, you continued, and you prayed to the gods that he could feel your silent apology through your touch alone.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #f!reader

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strawberryscribblesandwrites · 10 months

Text

Vampires vs Bath time

Marko x reader x Paul

Summary: your two blond vampire boyfriends visit you and things get a little steamy ;)

Author's note: I might do full smut part two we shall see

A cool breeze ruffled my hair, the smell of the sea being carried by it. That was one of the few perks of living right near the boardwalk, the fresh smell of the salty ocean.

Another perk was that I was close to my boys.

Ah, my boys. How could I begin to describe my undead delinquents? Well you have David, the ring leader, charming sinister energy to him at first but once you get to know him he had a soft spot for his lost boys. Dwayne is the silent brooding type, he loves reading and riding his bike with the others. Marko and Paul, the messy mischief makers filled with a childish hyperactiveness to them.

When I first met my boys they were well they were kind of a mess, only washing in the ocean, living then with frizzy matted hair- they would occasionally use the public showers near the boardwalks, but after meeting them I was adamant that they should keep good hygiene, especially if we were to all be in a relationship. David and Dwayne followed my rule and would pop in to have a proper hot shower or bath.

Now, Paul and Marko.... would try their best to remember but they would often get caught up in their shenanigans.

My radio was playing a loud rock song that reminded me of a thrilling night in the cave. I danced around my room without a care until the sound of a shrill wolf whistle and catcalling made me jump out of my skin. Spinning around to face my open window, I saw none other than the pair of blonde vamps. Their faces and clothes smeared with thick blood.

"What the hell" I whisper shouted at them.

"Aww baby don't be like that, it was a good show" Paul said with a smirk while Marko was giggling like a mad man. "Hurry in before anyone sees you" I said, shaking my head trying to suppress a smile at their antics.

"Do not touch anything" I said sternly as they came through my window. I walked to my set of draws and got the pair some comfy clothes to chuck on while I put their blood-drenched clothes in the wash. "Let me guess you were playing with your food and got too messy?" I asked them over my shoulder. "You could say that” David said “We were starting to stink up the place" Marko mumbled, like a child being told off. "I think we could have gone a few more days before we needed a good wash" Paul said in a joking manner.

"Gross" I stated.

Putting the boy's respective comfy clothes on my bed, I turned to the pair to inspect which of them needed a more thorough approach. Looking at Paul, he didn't seem too bad. His hair was stiff, as were his clothes- covered in deep, sticky blood. But other than that he didn't seem too bad. Marko, on the other hand, had his shirt half ripped and his soaked jacket looked particularly crusty. His chaps had seen better days, not to even mention how his hair was stuck together, all matted with blood clots.

"Paul you're up first, Marko baby you need extra care. I swear if you boys continue this I'll start treating you like actual dogs and just put you in the paddling pool and hose you down" I threatened

"Woof" Marko said smirking causing Paul to explode with laughter

"Sugar, we aren't that bad" he said breathlessly between laughs. I just hummed in response, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bathroom. "Baby, you just stay there. You can read some comics on my desk, I don't mind you getting a mess on my desk chair" I told him over my shoulder.

Turning on the taps of my bath, I added some soap and set some shampoo, conditioner and body wash on the side of the tub.

"Strip" I said pointing to the bath.

"Oooh, no need to be so snappy. If you wanted me naked you should just ask nicely" he said in a seductive tone.

"Not tonight casanova" I told him, causing him to pout.

I walked out of the bathroom giving him his privacy to get in the tub. Waiting, till I heard him shout through the door he was ready. I opened the door to collect his clothes.

"Hey baby, do you think you can wash my hair?" he asked softly. "Of course I can sweetie" I smiled.

Popping my head back into my room after I had put Paul's clothes into the washing machine, I was met with the sight of Marko, with his feet kicked up on my desk engrossed in one of my many comics. I made my way back to the bathroom, knocking on the door and waiting for a response before making my way in.

Paul lay in the bath, his wet hair pooling around his broad shoulders, his face and chest absent of the blood that was there earlier that night. "Hey Paulie" I said softly as I kneeled by the bath. He gave me a sweet smile as he sat up giving me better access to his head.

I truly loved nights like these with my boys. Sure they were killers, but they were also the boys that always treated me with love and care.

Kissing Paul's shoulder, I leaned for the shampoo, squirting some on my hand and massaging it into his scalp, causing Paul to let out a soft groan, my nails raking across his head."Have I told you how much I love you?" Paul breathlessly groaned as I started pouring water gently over his hair. “I'm always happy to hear it baby” I said, kissing his shoulder again.

I continued rinsing his hair until it was free of soap, repeating the process with the conditioner. “I could get used to this” Paul sighed, as the water sloshed round the tub as he started to stand up. “Well, I'm glad to hear that because I would prefer it if my boyfriend didn't smell like a corpse when I see him” I chuckled, wrapping a towel around his waist before he stepped out of the bath. “Aww, don't you find the smell of rotting sexy babe” he teased, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his bare chest. “Hmmm. Nope. I don’t think it is” I joked into his chest.

“Come on pretty boy, Marko needs a bath and a good scrub” I said, kissing his chest, causing a deep rumble to spread through him.

“Your clothes are on the bed and the hair dryer is in my desk drawer” I said, opening the door of the bathroom for him.

I leaned down putting my hand in the now lukewarm water to pull out the plug and let it drain .

Leaning my shoulder against the doorframe of my room, I watched as Paul moved over to my desk where Marko was sat. Paul leaned over him to get to the draw, allowing Marko to quickly lean up and kiss his jaw. “You smell nice” he told him. “Thanks bud” he said with a soft smile, retrieving the hair dryer.

Moving back to the bathroom as the last of the bath water emptied out, I replugged it, filling it with hot water and more soap, waiting until the bath was full until I called on Marko.

After a few minutes, he hadn't come. I decided to see why he was taking so long, walking over to my desk and leaning down over his shoulder. “Marko baby, why aren't you coming to the bathroom?” I asked softly.

“Babe, this comic is bitchin’. Look!” he said, excitedly showing me the panels of two characters fighting. Chuckling, I kissed his temple. “That's pretty cool, but ya gotta get a wash baby”. He groaned as he put the comic down.

We both moved to the bathroom where the bath was almost full of hot water and soap. “Pass me your jacket” I told the blond vampire. He shrugged off his jacket with a sigh. Giving a quick thank you, I moved his jacket to the kitchen where I could hand wash it.

I knocked on the door of the bathroom and waited for the okay from Marko to come in.

“Hey” he said, as I entered the steamy bathroom. “Hi” I smiled.

Marko was sat up straight in the water. Unlike Paul, he hadn’t bothered to rid his face and chest of congealed and dried blood .

Kneeling by the bathtub, I soaked the washcloth in the water, bringing it up to Marko’s face and gently scrubbed his chin. “You're both such messy eaters, you know that?” I asked with a chuckle. “We can’t help it babe, we just get a lil excited is all” he stated with a smile. I chuckled slightly at his response.

Gently, I grabbed his chin and tilted his head back so that I could wipe the blood from his neck. Occasionally, I would re-wet the cloth until his neck was clear of blood. I placed a set of soft kisses on his neck, up to his jawline. Pulling away from Marko, I dipped the cloth back in the water.

“Why are you so gentle with us?” he questioned.

“What do you mean?” I asked, while tilting my head and smiling softly.

“Well, I mean, you’re so soft with us. You make sure we are clean, and I mean- well look at you. You’re cleaning a bloodthirsty creature of the night” he stated. “I mean, you wash Pauls hair, you give David massages when he gets worked up, you sit and read with Dwayne, and don’t even get me started on how soft you are with Laddie. You buy him allsorts. You treat us so well and I don’t understand why” he said bewildered

“Hmm. Well, the answer is simple” I said as I brought my soapy hand up to his cheek. “It’s because I love you all, so very dearly” I smiled sweetly.

Marko broke out into a wide smile. “Awww, babe. You love us? Ewww” He joked as he pulled me into a kiss.

Pulling away, I gave him a soft look.“Alright lover boy, I should really wash your hair now. It’s all matted” I said. Sternly grabbing the bottle of shampoo, I started to lather his hair. “It smells like you” he mumbled to himself as I continued the process of lathering and rinsing until there were no more suds in his hair.

Grabbing the conditioner, I gently raked it through his hair before grabbing a comb to get the knots out of his curly hair, being careful not to pull and hurt him. Once I was done running the conditioner through his hair, I rinsed it all out.

“Alright, I'm gonna give your jacket a wash. I’m sure you can handle the rest from here” I said. Standing from the bathroom floor, I moved to the door.

Before I stepped down the stairs I went to check on Paul, he was on my bed, towel still low on his hips as he read one of the comics Marko had earlier. He’d turned the rock music on my radio higher, seeming comfortable

I carefully made my way down the stairs with the rest of Markos clothes in my arms. I walked into the kitchen, putting his jeans and shirt in the washing machine and setting it away along with Paul's clothes. The sloshing sound of the washer filling with water engulfed the silent kitchen. Grabbing Marko’s jacket, I filled the sink with cold water and detergent then began gently scrubbing at the blood stains, carefully, so as to not ruin it. I hummed a random song I had heard from the radio earlier as I worked away to rid the jacket of all the blood soaking it.

I stiffened as a pair of cold hands made their way round my waist.

“What you doing down here all by yourself?” Paul hummed huskily in my ear as his hand made its way under my shirt.

“Ah! Paul baby, your hands are freezing” I squealed, trying to squirm away from him.

“Well, you can help me warm them up” He mumbled against my skin. Paul started to drag his lips slowly down my neck until he reached the junction where my neck met my shoulders. I hummed at the feeling of his soft lips on the crook of my neck, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.

“I heard you and Marko in the bathroom” He whispered as he began kissing and nibbling back up my neck to my ear, causing me to let out a low huffy breath. “We love you too” he said as he pulled away, causing my hairs to stand on end.

Groaning at the loss of one of my vampire boyfriends body on mine, I turned to see his face lit up with a devilish smirk.

“Come on, Marks waiting” He informed, deciding I could finish washing markos jacket later. I dried my hands on a dish towel before following Paul up the stairs to my room.

As I entered the room I was met with the sight of Marko drying his hair with the spare towel I had given him earlier.

“Hey baby” He said joyfully with a smile. I chuckled at his joy. Paul had once again wrapped himself around me as he swayed to the rock music on the radio. He would occasionally place kisses along my neck.

Marko soon made his way over to us both. He placed one of his hands on my hips as he brought the other to my cheek to pull me into a passionate kiss.

The feeling of Marko’s lips on mine mixed with the feeling of Paul’s nibbling kisses and occasionally licking my neck made my head spin.

“Boys” I groaned at there attack as I pulled away from Marko for air, leaning my head back.

This only allowed the pair to continue their attack. Marko dove in, attaching his lips to the underside of my jaw.

Paul pulled away giggling. “Aww, look Marko, we have them melting” Paul teased, causing the other boy to pull away with a smile.

“You boys are the worst”. I groaned at the loss of their touch.

“You sure about that sugar?” Paul said as he tilted my chin to pull me into a passionate kiss. Marko trailed his cold hands from my hips up my stomach, the feeling of his cold fingertips trailing up my chest sent shivers down my spine, causing me to let out a moan into the kiss with paul.

Marko continued his path, his cold hand grabbed my chest with a dark chuckle. “Your heart is beating so fast baby. Do we really get you going that bad?” He said as he lifted my shirt and kissed my hip before he made his way up my stomach. The feeling of his soft breathing on my skin made my stomach muscles tense. It felt like the most heavenly torture.

He pulled away, making me internally groan. “You made them all whiney” Paul cooed in mock sympathy, causing Marko to giggle as he pulled my shirt off.

His nails gently dragged my hips closer to his face the cold tip of his nose hitting just above my hip made my body shiver in anticipation, Markos eye flitted up to mine then to pauls.

Paul's hand trailed up my chest his hand trailed up my chest to my his hands were soft as he moved my head slightly to the side and slowly licked up my neck before I felt the nipping feeling of his teeth dragging along the tender skin below my ear. Marko had pulled away from my hip his fingers digging under the hem of my jeans with a smirk “mmm hey paul do you think they are desperate enough” he rasped to the other vampire “nope” paul replied Marko breathily My room once filled with loud rock music was replaced by my own breathy wines and moans mixed with the raspy teasing giggles of Marko and paul they really did love teasing.

#the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #tlb x reader #tlb x you #tlb marko #marko the lost boys #marko x reader #marko x reader x paul #paul x marko #paul x reader #poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #slashers x reader

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ur-dad-satan · 3 months

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I know it's 8 am right now, HOWEVER, I have headcanons I need to get out of my brain before they're all I can think about... That being said: I have Obey Me! Headcanons about how I think the characters would smell. This is based on sleep deprived delusion and nothing else <3

I feel like most of the characters would wear some type of Cologne or perfume that perfectly encapsulates their personality or vibe. Like I know that's the purpose of Cologne/perfume but hear me out.

Luci would smell like some fancy Cologne with hints of vanilla and maybe even coffee. Not coffee breath, but maybe like his soap smells like coffee or Shea butter.

Mam would smell like an expensive Cologne with some really masculine scent like Cedarwood and like sea breeze or something. OR he would smell like men's deodorant and the smell of the two together would be intoxicating. (I'm getting off topic)

Contrary to popular belief, Levi would smell really good if not clean. Like he would probably smell like some type of soap and maybe sometimes some Ruri themed perfume for special occasions. Aside from that, he would just smell like soap. Maybe sea salt and something else.

Sat would also probably smell like a fancy cologne but I feel like he would also have like undertones of something familiar that you can't put your finger on. It's not indescribable, but it's so hard to pinpoint.

Asmo would smell like some type of fruit perfume or a delicate flower. I feel like he would also almost always use body glitter filled perfume/lotion for special events or when he felt extra pretty.

Beel probably wouldn't wear any perfume/cologne regularly but he never stinks. Not even when he's drenched in sweat; he actually kinda smells sweet. It's a subtle sweetness that you can only smell if he's close enough

Belphie also wouldn't wear cologne/perfume on a regular basis, but he also wouldn't stink. He would probably smell like fresh linens. He wouldn't quite smell like laundry detergent, but fresh sheets and pillowcases. It's a relaxing and comforting smell.

Dia would definitely smell like some fancy cologne. It's probably a gift from Luci that he likes to wear around him the most. I don't know why, but I get cinnamon vibes from him. Like his soap would be cinnamon scented and it gives a slight spice to his not quite savory cologne.

Barbs would smell like tea. He would do this on purpose. So no one can smell the bloodlust he feels for Solomon. I'm thinking like some type of green tea, jasmine tea blend with a hint of vanilla or something else sweet. He takes great pride in how he smells and loves when people complement him on it.

Luke would smell like cupcakes and icing. It's not just cause he's a kid or anything, but he goes out if his way to use sweet smelling products. He likes the way they make him feel and keep his skin soft. Everyone loves it. Not a single person complains.

Sim would smell like something natur-y like flowers or some type of tree. Maybe a nice spring day if that makes sense. This smell would mix with the smell of his deodorant -probably a pretty masculine smelling one- and be heavenly (no pun intended). He would know that he smells good but not how good he smells.

Solo would smell like a nice human world cologne. I feel like he would wear a basic deodorant and let his cologne do all the heavy lifting. It would be something like burning wood or like some type of ocean mist. (Y'all don't know how hard it was to not just tear Solomon a new asshole just then and IDK why)

Being mean to solomon under the line <3

Solomon would wear shower in a can and smell like fucking axe body spray. He almost certainly had a hippy phase in the 60s where he did a LOT of drugs and then he had an emo phase in the 2000s and can most definitely sing the entirety of Welcome to The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance.

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gojoroui · 20 days

Note

what do your moots remind you of?

tysm for turning this in nonnie, i was really exited to try this <3 & the fact i thought i had NO MOOTS when i literally have like 33 💀

@wvnrqs — ribbons & bows, old newspapers, pretty swans, tulips, bubbles during a summer day, vintage books

@ode2rin — cats, plushies, desserts, pillow sheets, clouds during a sunset, slice of life vlogs

@yuzurins — chirping birds in pretty meadows, bubble tea, spring mornings, green tea, flowers, plants

@okkalo — golden coins, rainbows, duckies, cardigans, soft breeze at night, lakes, cherries

@noomon — the sun, diaries, simple yet beautiful things, love letters, projectors, mini fireworks

@yoisami — serenity, raindrops falling down a window, youth, modeling posters, strawberries, bunnies

@mikareo — twinkling stars, lattes, romance k dramas, museum of arts, recording studios, eclipse

@rinzsu — instagram posts, cookies, snowman, masquerade balls, photo albums, the beach

@hanrinz — stars, k-pop concerts, snowflakes, headphones, mini skirts, candles on a rainy day

@rosequarzo — japanese folktale, lucky money, headphones, fantasize by ariana grande, toast, waking up at 2am for a snack

@adoregojo — modern universities, polaroids, black & white manga, hairclips, milk tea, bonnets

@riekiss — winter wonderland, snow angels, jewelry, dolphins bumping noses, mini skirts, slowly plucking petals off a flower

@popponn — frogs ofc, matcha, perfectly healthy & straight grass, keroppi, bootcut jeans, chanel soap

@rewh0re — autumn leaves, wooden instruments, music notes, greek & rome mythology, poetry, sacred monuments

@y2kuromi — sand castles, colorful ice cream flavors, perfect pair by beabadoobee, staying up to talk with friends until 1am, pretty seashells, butterflies

@pokkomi — glitter & sparkles, staring at clouds, fantasy genre, cargos, hello kitty, angels

@yunymphs — models, laufey, coquette aesthetic, anything gucci, attractive girls, money

@520cafe — sparrows, cats chasing after yarn strings, thirsty by aespa, picture frames, rice with soy sauce, playlists

@etoiile — lipstick, fashion, staring at the starry night sky, french cookies, milk, daisies

@moonswolfie — coffee, studying with a candlelight during a rainy day, scarves, autumn breeze, biscuits, puppies

@kyoghurts — saturn, friendly aliens, lipstick stains on a white shirt, peach eyes by wave to earth, carp streamers, chalk

@kxttqi — lilies, sunrise & sunsets, lion cubs, melting candles, strawberries, pretty instagram posts

@kaiser1ns — book shelves, j-pop, cheesecake, birthday streamers, lucky money, tigers

@rninies — aventurine, unforgiven by le sserefim, pochacco, mangoes, flip phones, figurine boxes

@iluvies — kaomoji, koi ponds, expensive restaurants, red velvet cake, pottery, bunnies that have their nose scrunched up

@lovedazai — sweet bananas, lily of the valley, bouquet of roses, the smell when you walk into a bakery, prom nights, fairytales

@scopuo — jjk theme song, video games, dvds, tote bags, japanese apartments, thrift stores

@culturity — watching edits at 3am, stargirl, cleared remix by lilithzplug, nokia phone, laces, ramen

@myuroll — my melody, rubber duckies, alice from wonderland, koi fishes, cake rolls, the feeling when when someone gives you a compliment

@noirflms — flower petals, cherry blossoms, coquette clothing, hoodies, pinterest whispers, apocalypse by cigs after sex

@wishmemel — wish me mell, chocolate covered strawberries, the moon, pretty nails, new york at night, mcdonald’s chicken nuggets

@saelique — ocean waves, san-x, doves, kindergarteners (bc ur cute & fun ^^), friends to lovers trope, headphones, staying in bed for 5 more minutes b4 school

@yeritos — pudding, iced coffee, pearl necklaces, mesmerizing color palettes, skipping rocks, mary jane shoes, lamp

#letters ꕤ ˚₊⊹

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xiamentshoneypot · 2 months

Text

“no grave can hold my body down I’ll crawl home to her”

Angst no happy ending

Warnings(death)(just utter sadness)

ꨄ

Everything had gone wrong, wrong wrong wrong. Nobody knew where to start from the bad intel to the breaking news that would rock not only the entire team of 141 as a whole but their families. Simon was a man who didn’t have much of a heart to hear beating but joined the military with sorrow and he would leave with it too.

As he lay there everything falling before him, he’d heard stories of people seeing their lives flash in the face of death as a lookbook of sin and glory.

The smile that spread across his chapped, thin lips, too far gone to see the way prices head bowed as his eyes glazed over.

He remembered the day of glory no day ever would amount in comparison.

The air was peached and refreshing, the men standing behind him that had grown as he had through the parts of his life that mattered now.

The beautiful scenery that surrounds them, the ocean dark blue but shinning as the moon scattered across its horizon, the breeze chilling but not cold the anticipation building in his guts.

The men and everyone outside stood to their feet as the music plays the familiar tune. Here comes the bride. It was amazing the he stood unmasked in the night unfazed and comfortable.

Unmasked he was, he had released himself from the shouldering worry of enemies he had let ghost go this was just Simon Riley. A soft chuckle and a thought…..

His wife, his beautiful beloved wife. The beautiful hibiscus bundled in her hands the lace vail blowing down the front of her face the tears cascading down his face were a sight when the music had ended and he’d had his hands in yours.

The pastors voice drowned out by the captured gaze between him and his bride a warm cough, from said pastor signaling it was time for vows to be exchanged taking the diamond ring that was everything she’d ever want to her finger after repeating the pastors vows he gave some of his own.

“I vow that when death takes my hand

I’ll hold you with the other and promise to find you in every lifetime I breathe in

I vow to never let you fret, cry or be scared as long as I am on earth

I vow to understand, please and thank you for accepting my deepest love till death fights me down

I love you”

He’d done his very best to life up to that, and he had succeeded no matter how far or near he was he made sure to call or send a message in some way to let you know he was still here and loving you.

It wasn’t very long before the weight on his body got a little heavier, he remembered the second greatest day of his life.

“Guess what!” His newlywed wife asked

“Wha’” the gruff man responded a wide smile on his thinner lip, with her simple ask his eyes were closed and his hands were out and open.

A delicate picture frame had appeared in his hands it was there wedding photo blown up and framed in a white wooden frame.

“It gorgeous hon’” was all he could say it took the breath from him. Thinking about that day still felt like a dream but having the proof in his hands was spectacular.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um… I got a call from John there a mission that he wants me on I know that after we got married I said I’d retire and I will be he needs me this will be the last one I promise love”

And He’d later go on to get the photo tattooed on the whole of his back as a mural for you by him.

He knew he was dying not when he heard his yelling caption asking him to hold on just a little longer, soap calling for him to keep his eyes open nor the evac arrive airlifting him to a hospital.

It was when he couldn’t hear your voice anymore, when your face got blurry when he tried his damn hardest to see it he knew it was over.

But he needed to make good on his word, he had to get back to you to say a goodbye weakly raising with wired hands the monitors ringing away.

Not that he could tell the difference between them or the ringing in his ears price jumping up to try and settle him. “Riley lay down you’re going to make it worse.” He firmly but yet scared told him man.

Shaking his had left to right “call er” he rasped out “call er now I need my wife!” Death was going to take him yes but it wasn’t going to take his last moment from his wife.

You don’t know how you got to the hospital but you did just in time charging your way past anything, breathing only with your gotten spotty vision jumping to his side and his arms.

“This isn’t My choice hon but I hope I did well being your love but please find another” it would kill him again to watch you from beyond drowning in sorrow.

“I don’t want them I want you” you tired you hardest to not break down to make him feel like he did anything wrong.

He didn’t this was all out of either of your control.

“You have me you’ll be the only one to have me.”

There it was the weight was much too heavy to fight and he had a light heart hold his loved hands in one death on his chest.

He laughs at the thought he had all those years ago

Banners by @danowh0re and @k1ssyoursister

#simon riley angst #141 x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x black reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #ghost cod #ghost x honey #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x black reader

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astralnymphh · 7 months

Text

god knows she tried.

ellie williams⊱.

“the monster inside her was baying for blood, it had to come out some day.”

⤹𓍢ִ໋listening to; lacrimosa and sour

𖤐.an; I present to you, my proudest piece. wowowoww I really enjoyed writing an emotional piece like this. I hope it suffices and gets enough recognition cause this surely won't be my last angst piece!! inspired by lacy, oh lacy by @coeurify

𓍢ִ໋-cw; ellie pov focus leaning, large analysis of ellie throughout tlou2, loser-esque jackson ellie, angst, heavy feelings, depictions of death + wanting death + blood + guts + sharp objects + nausea/vomit + self hatred + jealousy + starvation, mild glimpses of happiness, reader replaces dina, reader isn't pregnant, poetic writing

⋆.ೃ;wc; 5k+

masterlist ୨୧

the sun was shrouded in gloom. the water did not glisten, but her tears did. droplets of gray guilt pour in slow motion down her bloodied cheeks. tears glistening with hurt.

washed up like a sea carcass, phantom fingers pounding in pain. made into a husk by her own self-corrosion. her mind would have been bare, except, you're there. a figment of time, standing there, suffocating in your blank stare. why are you staring like that? it's not even you. ellie can't grasp that truth. it's only her subconscious. projecting an apparition of your mortal flesh and briny blood. salty like the sea she's sitting in.

would you echo that figment in real time?

the past figments she saw had character. one shaking their head, one like a beacon of comfort caressing her shoulder, and never dead. you're not dead, why is she crying?

she cries for everything.

her limbs calcified of stone. nothings' moving. lungs that felt dried up from all the tears leaving her eyes. a throat that strains and tugs with each dense swallow, reminding her of the atmosphere that appeared so devoid of air, thinking, how could she breathe right now? the insoluble pain of self-destruction. the hunger for revenge, snuffed like a breeze to flames. it was all in her head. the choking. her lungs begged for air, and she could not breathe it.

ellie cusps the hand that gushes with beady red blood that drips into the dark murky water, pressurizing the exposed throbbing knuckle. it hurt like hell, an unlivable hell. yet, not a wail is heard by the ocean. only the whimpers and sniffles graze the ears of her highness, the sea, the only one physically there to listen.

behind her, feet are hung at head-level. wooden pillars that scarcely mimicked crucifixion. this place was dark, in all dimensions.

just minutes ago, her skin was forming bruises and jaw nearly caved in from the force of abby's struggled hits. knuckles praying to live. not even the mass of a gun tucked in her jeans had her awareness. no, she didn't use it. she wanted to feel abby fucking dying in her hands. her hands that have siphoned the lives of many before. but, when she realized someone was actually dying in her hands, when she could feel that through her skin, it was over. the flashes of joel in her head beckoned her to stop, without uttering any words. the same mental imagery that motioned her to break skin in the first place.

joel was always there.

soaping up the harshly served reality that projected on the foggy thalassic horizon and toxified the surrounding waters, her mind sails to different times. supposed simplistic times that, by fate, turned rotten.

the day you two met. a mere four years ago. the town was a busy winterscape. you both were the golden age of sixteen, well, not that golden admist the post-apocalypse. steady clanking hoofsteps that striked the concrete track streaming into jackson, mounted on your midnight coat steed that trailed behind tommy's. heads turned at the sounds of large rusty hinges twisting, including hers, watching from beyond the stable's fencing.

goddess above and below, you're were so stunning.

she remembers she was gearing up for group patrol that day when you arrived, the saddles' horn nearly slipping from her bay leather grasp. thoughts of interest and curiosity had slowly piled up from that point. her pupils picking up on each hoofprint left as you pass the open paddock and stroll into the connecting stable. her browlines furrowed, wondering if you we're some backpacker hauled over for a spell, or a new resident.

she's lucky it would be the latter.

the veil of frigid air that seeped her skin and snapped her focus out of a daydream by the echo of dina's voice, calling her,

"earth to ellie?"

and it tethers her back on earth, turning her face to dina. she thought back to how her gloved fingers snapped in her face, asking for her focus, there and then.

"sor- um, what were you saying?" her speech was floaty, stacking on each other as she stuttered.

why was her focus glued to you at that moment? you had literally just entered. fucking hell, must have been something intruding the air. it's unlike herself to be so.. enraptured.

and later that evening, after a session of controlled gunshots mowing down the rigid fungoid heads that dared to disrupt their supply run, she was tired. plain tired.

as it turns out, a sturdy bench baring wooden boards as seats was enough comfort after all that shit. legs beat down to drooping over the woods edge, feeling like jelly. her hair bathed in the dining hall's incandescent lights, rendering a mellow orange halo. lips in pure quietude, she sat as a stranger to the conversation had between joel, jesse and dina.

ellie pondered the expedition for guitar strings that happened weeks ago, still processing what joel had told her. 'there was, no cure.' was it fabrication? what really took place in her state of unconsciousness? this was the beginning of a lurk. an unabating, rough gloom that presides under and through the chamber of her stomach, telling her something wasn't right. a thing she can't exactly point a finger to. a gut hunch that anchors her heart tightly. all is not true. she must seek.

blanked inside the home of her mind, only to be yanked by the wisping holler that ran over her head.

"hey! over here!" it was dina, ushering you over with the jerks of her wrist.

you passioned your way through the meal lines, appearing before her. she recalls how you looked, you were perfect. you wore the same ebony winter jacket that gathered dust on the wall-mounted rack of your farmhouse bedroom. it had its wears and tears and excerpts of journies to tell, but it was perfect on you. it's just a plain jacket. but for her, it was the jacket.

"the house up to yer' standards?" joel asked you, the usual mug of piping hot joe whaffed a steam around the aged and cracked skin of his face. tender in the light.

your voice rang through, "yeah, nothing I could ever bargain." and it cleared a trench between her temples. that rough gloom took a rain check instantly.

a fuzzy feeling that fords neither love or hate embraced the nape of her back. she didn't realize it just then, but, between the vault of aching uncertainty in her gut and the day to day neutrality she feels, a blossoming delight would come from your arrival at jackson, should she consume its goodness.

she didn't remember much of that conversation until the spotlight beamed towards her.

"this is ellie, she jus' came back from patrol. she'll show ya how we handle things 'round here." joel had gestured your sights over to her, to consume her first impression, with a smile that would become signature.

her ears tuned to you.

"hi!" you greeted with the softest wisping of your lips. oh, it made her evening that much more animated.

from that day onward, it was like a sweet lullaby of love. waving from across the horizon for weeks, your hand splayed out flat in the air, and hers curled up a bit. another week passes, and she's inviting you to the tipsy bison on her own accord. months pass, and she's constantly slumbering on your sofa over long nights, preferring it over being alone in her garage home. at this position in your shared timeline, ellie has grown distant from joel. you swore she forgot that old mans' bowed and bearded face sometimes.

it stung to relive the memory of pushing joel away. outside that damned hospital. saint marys' piece of shit. yelling, "don't you fucking, touch me!"

the tears were scorching. they were brought up to be. and they burned. the inside of her throat felt sliced up, chewed up, and ran through with barbed wire. swallowing was too much to bear, just how it is now, sitting on that dark beach.

that same day, she returned to find you waiting at her doorstep, box in hand. worry-struck. ellie took off out of the void, it made sense you were distraught. she felt mutually the same, her wrenching heart suffering the aftermath. the dawn of day she assumed would be spent alone, was sat atop her bed. losing herself in the video game you brought in that box, laying on you while she flicks the joysticks and taps the bumpers. it was a sunny yellow haven. a light she found in the darkness, that was you.

a tightly braided friendship.

and her mind lingers on something you once uttered at the crux of night during a sleepover, entailing the words;

"i like moths now, because of you."

that made her flustered across the span of a whole week, even joel questioned why she was blanking out during patrol training.

she was your moon. someone to subdue the spines that pricked your skin every day. sharp edges that tell you, happiness wasn't meant to stay. battle it all you wanted. moons eventually dim and embellish darkness.

two years pass, and she's being led to the center of an ornamental string-lit dance floor during another peak of winter, by none other than dina.

not you. if only it had been you. or else she wouldn't have felt that specter of gloom wrench her gut in disgusting ways later at dusk.

at least her gut didn't feel as it does now. torn open for this sorrowful sea to behold, exposed to a retch colored with regret. ill aversion.

her hands guided to the small of dina's back, draping like a silk curtain. missing a flinch when her arms huddled ellie's shoulders. not a flinch. ellie didn't love dina, but they were close. pinkies-tied close. it's just dina being dina, right?

"every guy in this room is staring at you right now.." her voice croaked in a demure whisper. the blood cells in her being were fluttering, the weight of her position then and there, made her feel lit up inside a dark room. backed into a corner. she was the spotlight once more.

"maybe they're staring at you.."

they would soon.

you never resented ellie for that night. you liked her, yeah, but it wasn't her fault. it only felt like you'd gulped a clump of metal bolts, weighing like a sick burden inside you. cold and rustic. your will of steel didn't let that shatter you completely, though. bottled it up and bluffed your feelings. it was never her fault. sucked down that bitter shot and let it ferment in your sickly gut packed with a stir. a stir of pungent nausea jabbing thorns in your esophagus. it delivers a nasty taste. but you swore, you wouldn't resent ellie.

ellie was unaware of your shared adoration. what seemed like a one-sided crush, was not. nights left off with a friendly hug could have been so much more divinely satiating. she wishes her body wasn't bound to the now, wishing she could back to then. the past, and express her affection. tell you everything.

a wish brewn too late. a drunken kiss to her buds out of wills' reach binds a woolly, empty headed fizzing to her ears. tossed into a stupor. all she could do was stand still like a willow tree in the windless plains. lips unable to jerk away. then it sunk hard. you're there. you're watching. people are peering. you saw.

"fuck." was emphasized in her toneless breath, narrowly letting loose another swear in the flavor of a loud scream.

in that gloomy darkness, she saw you. illuminated like a beacon too. your face plasters an unbothered exterior, but the eyes, the eyes are a glass screen. you can understand the essence fueling a person's emotion with one meager glimpse. a new gag clots her gullet. she can't show it, but she for heaven above and hell below, could fucking feel it.

you virtually felt a crack in your heart. cracks in a porcelain antique. you're sure the two looked similar.

strung between multiple conclusions, you pondered. if ellie liked dina, you'd have to woefully accept it. and if she didn't, then she didn't. what more could you have proposed at that time. life is life.

your feet carried you with a saunter, skirting the doors brinking you from the ghostly streets of a slumbering town of jackson. a jarring contrast from the lively party howling behind you. even for someone who's experiencing confusion, you walked with a gentle gait.

pausing under the descending pearls of frozen water, casting your eyes heavenward into the starry globe above you. the stars twinkled so perfectly on such a gut-wrenching night as this one. it dawns on you. how the celestial bodies of space feel no pain, no heartbreak. how their life is lived without the mortal trials you face. it must be so easy up there, suspended in space, feeling nothing.

as the snow nestled in the beds of your hair, melting on your blue hot face, you claimed a sense of emptiness in your head amidst the vomit begging to unfurl from your throttle. please, let it be a dream.

piercing isolation.

ended suddenly.

the swinging of a door wooshes through your ears, and capers your sights to its source. and there she was. joining you in the twilight snow-shower. ellie.

she trotted up to you, lone in the wintry streets, and harvested the same pellets of opalite snow that decorated the strands of your hair like constellations hovering above. her head, too, snowflakes cling to her russet bang and lashes, framing her eyes so damn right.

oh, snowy fern eyes. the most serenic evergreen rings encapsulated behind gloss. dewey eyes sitting atop red sweltered cheeks. her lids fluttered back the tears, the tears that might wither the snow, and surely wither her soundness of mind. a quiver of the lip, bent over her teeth. frozen fucking wind that chars the lining of her lungs with ice. every single thing fucking wounded her.

you gazed into one another, emotions roaring loud. she could peer right through you. through the glass windows of your eyes. things were felt and not shown, it was evident in your expression. no words were uttered in those seconds before. before the infamous words you spoke. words that forced everything to the shore.

"do you love dina?"

fucking gag. another smother of disgust gurgling in her gut. the sheer assumption that you believed her heart to be penchant for dina, and not you, drowned her guts. a quick spurt of unease penetrates her whole esse.

here went nothing.

"I love you."

whorled away from your envy like whiplash. it added up by that point. she appeared like a puppet to that kiss on the dance floor. you recalled it then. ellie's teeth were never bared in a smile, more so, it was the true one-sided love. now, she is standing in front of you. physical, mortal, and all. retching out that confession like it was stifled beneath a tombstone.

to ellie, that tombstone represented everything she expected to fail. to be dead. a wish foreseen as ash, fled to the gales of something more worthy.

that wish sailed the breeze, and landed at your feet.

you reached that shore too.

"I love you too, ellie."

her name levitating off your tongue with a tone so soothing felt affirming. grounding. this is not a dream.

her eyes transmutated, eclipsed by a sun. what was once dewey, red and puffy, then softened to a set of almonds brazed in sweet syrup. calmer tears that were golden. joyous. lids relax and anchor her brows, straightening out like rows of a poem. after straying so long beneath the falling snow, her nose suffused a red-orangey tint, nostrils even redder.

love passioned its way through the gelid space, accompanied by the humid huffs of your breath. but nothing was as warm, not even a star, as what brought your bodies a few measly steps closer.

a kiss.

huddled in the somber streets was an effigy of igniting amour. two souls stuck together. her arms wrapped around your back like you were the only life she could clutch. reddened knuckles crumpling up the same ebony jacket you attired in the winter, holding you dear. your arms found a natural embrace, cusping her shoulders and marrying fingertips into her coppery mane that tied into her bun.

nothing beats the way you two rolled lips, tasting the skin and smacking slowly. her peachy buds that fit the open groove of your mouth so easily. her lips were formed for you. cells that build her body, are building for you. she existed solely for you. graciously drinking up the kiss like a fucking sweet milkshake.

a taste so addictive, you could die on it.

shit, she's smirking into your lips. ellie, you blasted dork. even the dimples denting her cheeks could poke you back. that's how wide her smile travels from ear to ear, even her cheeks fattened up, creasing those beautiful crinkles at the edges of her eyelines. a true smile.

and once that kiss severed, you saw those bloated, ruddy cheeks plucking the corners of her lips. too fucking adorable.

"well, there's that smile. lost her a while ago, els?" the teaser you were, and the loser she was.

her lips refine into the same toothy, adorable beam. she nearly cringed at your observation. the way you kept notation of how often her midface perks up, it was cute. her flesh bites the bitter cold, and blood that heaped her cheeks burnt so vibrant for you.

she couldn't believe you were true.

"i think you're the only person that makes me smile," she recalled this vividly, trying her darndest to uplift every waking thought about you through a cold shell she fabricated, "fuck, i'm so bad at this.." laugh it off past ellie, laugh it off.

if she pinpoints it correctly, you had said the words "i like bad." jokingly. fashioning the most proud smirk ever. pfft, she giggles every time her brain resurfaces that memory of your snowy brimmed confessions.

"tsskk- u're weird."

"you're a big dork."

"shut up.." her ardent palms pancaked against both of your cheeks, passionately pulling you in for another tangerine sweet kiss.

the ivory supermoon set on a blissful night, luckily enough. ellie ended up fleeing that street, hand in hand mingled with you, towards her home. fuck that dance. fuck those feelings flush of guilt that died right there on that street. being tangled in the sheets with you snuggled in her arms was enough. enough to submerge what galloped through her head.

"i don't need your fucking help joel."

shit.

gods above and below.

what did daylight bring?

bloodshed. blood stains her eyes to this day. she was there. she saw. the blood spilt and it splashed towards her. if joel couldn't reach his torn, bashed and narrowly mutilated hand out to her, his lifeline would. the plasma pumping his heart to sustain life, hurling out like a ribbon of crimson. a downright disrespectful invitation of rememberance abby had chucked to her fucking face.

this memory. this disease, an immoral plague. who the fuck up there in the pristine realms of divinity decides a mortal punishment like this?

that memory, lives on. it weakens the marrow in her bones. turns the tides in her head. she wanted to rip her skin off. her skin that gets to survive. disgust. again. the muscles attached to bone, felt like they didn't belong.

she stopped genuinely breathing after that day.

you saw the will to breathe drain from her eyes. etching into that lodges' oak floors. the first grave she ever dug.

"i'm so sorry, ellie."

was the first swan song she ever heard.

now that rough gloom, plummeted and shapeshifted into a dark cavern of misery. starless, desolate gloom. her room turnt cavernous too. blocking all rays of bright luminosity from injecting a disturbance in her seclusion. era of mental death.

you had been visiting her daily in her time of barren sensitivity, at the least, visiting her door. you uneasily sat on the exterior end of her door. poised aside and smushing your ear into it's solid strength. praying that you might hear any peep of life on the other side, you wait. you miss her bloodcurtiling sobs reserved for nighttime, sowing the conclusion that she, inside, was empty. a husk.

if death is so morbid, why did graves look so peaceful? so prettied up. why are the baby blue hydrangeas sitting atop his freshly cold grave, soft in their glory, delivering such a potent posion. they plant their own seed. clotting ellie's throat with a nest of hydrangeas she'll carry with her forever. roots latched to a deep spring in her spirit that navigates every little emotion. the flowers bulge from her esophagus and cough up in petals of regret, forgiveness, and rejection.

she can't accept that.

she didn't.

she heard the rainy forest calling for her.

seattle is here. seattle is waiting. the old flame lights the new wick, and so it ignites, her immortal foe. revenge.

and she brought you along.

ellie respires every soul set free from mangled bodies she creates. her hands a syphon, the weapon her postman. delivering screaming letters of justice with every pull of her finger on the trigger.

a once starless gloom was snapped in half by her own drive with spheres of guttural fire baying for blood. she wakes up a blood-gutter every sunrise. her face just might fossilize and cherish this total takeover. she was someone new. angled fuming brows, irritable red nostrils flared more than ever, and an awful intensity in her eyes. it made them scintillating, more so, grossly gleaming. irises fern green to hazardous toxin in just a few months.

enemies could read ellie's aura nimbly, if their visions should even grasp it faster than their machetes and hammers meeting a clenched palm. she wasn't just a girl. she was a threat.

miles of blood patterned in her path, splotching the diamond modeled bottoms of her converse like abstract art. she was lost in her own world. driven straight to the goal.

you promised you'd be there every damn sliced throat of the way, no matter what. but this scares you. slowly, the fire burning in her eyes had charred her up till she could barely give anything more.

the fire had only engulfed her when she appeared at the theater's lobby doors, banging the margin of her balled fist on the wood. the fist gloved in crescent scars, peeled cuticles, and raised callouses. when the doors waved open to you, gliding up to her and weaving yourself with her body in a relieved hug, she couldn't do it. it was too much. the torture lingering in her muscle memory stung, frozen hands jittering above the small of your back momentarily.

ellie was enervated.

it took her a second to even hug you back. that was, too kind of you. to embrace her body slathered in the lifeline of someone else. why would you even do that, she thought.

her mind looped on a cycle, processing that damned notion as you pleat the soiled shirt off her back. she couldn't even feel the salient tear in her back, the brutally severed dermis throbbing red, not a whimper soars her gullet when you tend to it. numbness riddled her. stitch her up, and she won't flinch.

then ellie croaked,

"i made her talk."

she was revolted. how could she touch you so tenderly after whacking a metal rod into a beating body 'till they coughed up the words. knackered them up for eternal sleep. the face she just wiped from this earth, blurred. does she even remember what she looked like?

it was your own arm, meshing around her blistered collarbone that prompted her to gauge the value of her life, even just for an iota of solace time.

problem being, she couldn't remain enlightened of her value- without you.

"i don't wanna lose you."

your lips kissed her pain away, pitter by patter along the scruff of her neck to her seared shoulder. every peck embedded with a melodic note that forges a song saying, 'i am here, you won't lose me' without even brushing that past your satiny lips.

won't you seal my hardships with your lips of silk? taint my lips of leather and gums of thorns with your soothing buds?

"you wont."

then that day arrived, when she almost did. a scene depicted by the ten of swords. a major disaster indicated. as the arrow speared the air suddenly, and in no time you could count, it had already paved through the plate of your shoulder and strung out blood to the planks before you. rendering you unconscious.

"please stop!" ellie pleaded, just like she did before. god forbid if she had to witness another loved one being lacerated from life. her limp body prays, prays for your safe survival, and not your safe passage. she wonders if god is even real, if any god is real. do they hear her now? we're they aware when she shrilled for mercy at every red ribbon lashed out from his body? did they welcome him, home?

and right before that cold steel nearly divided your skin, a voice erupted.

"abby!"

thank fuck you hadn't ended up a resemblance of the 'ten of swords' illustration. thank the sun gods that you were able to bask and tan under the light that fondled the rustic farmhouse with her. ellie is so lucky, for someone who doesn't believe in it.

"don't ever let me see you again."

you then retired to that old, rustic farmhouse. aging under the continuous moon phases for two years straight.

it was a strenuous journey getting to where she was supposed to be the happiest. despite all the treasures she owned on that farm property, the lagoon of corn fields and hills of verdancy that sung in spring, mighty splendors anyone might wish for, ellie still lived with a loom. ellie bore tantrums inside the confined loneliness of the farm's supply room, kicking the hilt of a rake as it clatters to the stony ground, yelling, "fuck!" when it startled her badly enough, or when it enraged her ptsd well enough.

reminiscence is woven into the scar risen on your shoulder. it reminds her. every. damn. glance.

every approaching dream was daunting to ellie. she'd wake up. cold beady sweat. go back to sleep, suffocate in her subconscious again, and surface them in a panic once more. not even braving the night with a stroll around the perimeter helped. it only sunk everything deeper.

if she was drunken in her sorrows, would you carry her?

the daylight spent with you was her only source of felicity. the mundane made it feel much more liveable. a day spent baking together, flour dappled on each other's noses, roused as she pushed up behind, and swayed you to the cordial and funky beats thrumming from the viynl player. that day, that simple day made her want to live fully for you. she wanted to be tied to your pinkie with the lusty filaments of love.

and in that humble kitchen laid a promise;

"so- this means you'll marry me?" a stupid smirk muffled ellie's voice out huskily, flowing against the shoreline of your ear.

"can't we just announce ourselves married already?"

"baabeee.." that freckled idiot whined.

"eelllssss.." you rung back.

her arms fastened you tighter, pout puffing on your shoulder, "i wann' make it feel real.." she intoned, inclining up and stuffing her nose into your neck. pretty sure she rubbed all the flour onto you, being the bear hugger she is.

no answer parts your lips.

"babe?"

ellie felt you twirl in her caging arms, perking up to even up with your gaze in curiosity. her brows fumble and arc inwards to visibly show her interest for your next words.

"we're real, els. i don't need a ring or declaration to show that.." your tone caters to her love of soothing sounds, as she breaks into an even toothier smile that trails your words.

"you don't?"

you had leaned in, devoid of words. a quiet kiss to her brows, said so much more than she expected. that inner-loser knocked on the door of her mind and took control. blasted blush coating her cheeks. you really knew how to woo her, cradling her head in your tender cusp.

"i just need you."

"don't go."

the grounding touch of her cheeks held between your hands was not enough. the blank, void, and unnerving night was not enough. nothing was enough to keep her waiting.

what kind of songs do you play when dwindling into internal madness?

her own screams battle the wood boards of that farm too often. her screams synchronize with joels, replaying in her head. scared and unable to hold onto anything. thoughts running amok. she fucking needs you more than she thought.

"ellie- ellie.. I'm here. it's okay."

it's not okay.

it's not okay for her to play pretend and cast an ocean over those feelings 'when she can'. you told her, it's okay. to be broken. but her heart anchors towards an obligation to be picture perfect for you, for anyone. every positive cover-up felt like posion pooling from her mouth. lying til she couldn't feel her lips.

she lied to you once. for someone who despises lies and has been lied to, she lied. that fucking lie hurt. but it was too loud. the gloom that stuck with her for so long has grown into a pounding, jarring sound similar to intense whirring, but echoed. nothing had color at that point. everything was a null void, and every sound was a silence too loud.

a sentence meant to be; "i'm going to find abby." sounded a lot more like,

"i'm so tired, baby." murmured ellie, collapsed flat on the plateau of your chest and drained of energy.

you assumed it was just physical fatigue.

"it's fine, go t'sleep, we can talk later."

ellie's eyes looked so dull, so scarce of humanity. she was tired. each passing day had been vampirically sucking the motivation from her veins. some days, she didn't even catch you calling her name from the farmhouse. earth to ellie, are you still in there?

"I have to finish it." ellie's forehead bent to yours, felt so wrong.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"I can't." her voice nearly shattered into a waterfall of sobbing.

your voice cracked, however, "bullshit, els."

that was the drawing line. she finally breaks and is consumed by that hovering gloom. she lost herself.

ellie dashed every chance of losing you, and yet took it upon herself to leave you, instead.

that fucking thing that leeched off her for so many years is finally getting what it yearns for. greed of revenge to feed the darkness. starving herself as it ingests every fiber barely holding her together.

you spun away with leisure, breaching your hands from her, "I am - not, doing this again."

you couldn't save this. she was leaving. nothing blocks her way.

heart-wrenching silence dawns.

"that's up to you."

her heels unhurriedly turned in an instant, abandoning you, and her dreams born of soft blue dasies. her omens of happiness and trust, becoming a fatuous foreground. the door waving shut behind her would soon come to bite her in the heart.

now she sits. almost dying in that water. the water was her gloom all along. she was the vessel, she paid the price, it's free. now she bleeds into it. red rivers dance and make a mockery of her weeping body.

she tried.

it won.

she tried for the false clone of you haunting her mind. it's the only thing she had left of you.

she tried so hard to be strong. only she and the gods above know that.

you wouldn't though.

coming home to jackson a walking carcass, pinning her hopes on you being there. it was obvious you moved from the farmhouse. why would you live there alone?

so, she stands. inside your old jackson home, to divulge its absence of you. no, you weren't there. you weren't in jackson. all that remains are old memories crammed into boxes. motionless without a requiem.

ellie closes in on one of these.

and what she finds is painful.

that winter jacket.

she clutches it tight to her barren eyes, burrowing the trench of her nose with your lingering scent. the scenes trance her mind. visions of you tackling her in the thick mud puddle on your farm's acres, an enchanting laugh wheezing in your throat. visions of holding your stomach while you scrubbed fine china of its grub and stains, wishing you two had a real family, a child, by some miracle. recollections of you, legs sitting pretty across her lap as she thrashed a controller, casting her evil curse whenever the game ticked her off just enough and how you giggled at her. the everlasting evocation of you two, kissing under that snow-ether night, vowing a love to extend across times bounds.

the jacket smells so fucking good.

"please.." whispered ellie, with a taut countenance, "where are you.."

not a clue of where you went is in those walls.

are you dead? nobody knows.

where she left the farmhouse, you left her entirely. unknowing if it stems from love, hate, or neutrality. the guilt felt disgusting, once more. the pain stung in her lung far harsher. the air siphoning out.

in a room so devoid of air, and you, how could she breathe?

you can't pay in blood and sacrifice. ellie has learned that. she paid in loss of something that didn't have to go.

love was understanding each other's limits, and so was losing each other. she just never realized you had limits plummeting down on you, until the new moon phase had begun, and it was too late.

that figment of you is all she has left.

𓍢ִ໋-likes and reblogs appreciated, bright blessings!

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redheadspark · 1 year

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hello can i request #29 with azriel from acotar! thank u

A/N - I think this is beyond adorable and great for Azriel! Thank you for requesting this, anon!

Warm

Summary - Azrile brings you peace and love again after you return from being under the mountain

Warnings - Just some angst and fluff morphed together :)

Drip....drip.....

Drip.....drip...

You were watching the water drip down from the faucet, going in an inconsistent rhythm while you were hugging your knees to your chest and your hair was framining your face. It shoudn't take this amount of strength to reach over and turn the water on, to let the warm and nearly pipping hot water surround you in the massive claw tub, and you let the rest of the day melt away with the soaps that Elaine gifted you on your birthday.

But you couldn't reach it. Your mind was occupied somewhere else.

It has been years since you were trapped under the mountain, under the wrath of Amarantha and her sick reign and control over those who were her prisoners. You were one of the unlucky ones that suffered: Countless nights and endless nightmares that you would never see the light of day ever again, countless times of pain and punishment from either moving too slow or being too inconistant.

Worst of all, you were almost sold off as a sex slave. But you weren't, and you had Rhysand to thank for that.

The door to the bathroom opened and closed quietly, you instantly know who it was since you felt the soft licks of shadows along your bare back and your neck. It was a sense of greeting, a gnetle way and nothign too harsh. The soft sounds of boots waking onto the room was heard too, but then it stopped right next to you.

A scarred and calloused hand, touching the rim of the bathtub as the being crouched down to see at your eye level.

"My love?"

You looked away from the dripping water and over at Azriel, seeing him watch you with love in his eyes, some concern and pain, but mostly love. His hazel eyes were shining from the lights in the bathroom lights and candles that were already at work, his smile appeared as your eyes searched his own while he tilted his head at you, "Feyre told me you were feeling a bit out of it today. I came home early from training the new recruits to check on you,"

"Az...you didn't have to--" You were starting to say to him, but Azriel leaned in to press a kiss under your eyes and then pushed his head into yours. You breathed him in, the musky scent he brought with him from his vigorous training and work amongst the Illryian soldiers. But his scent was also his own: a mixture of the ocean breeze and some of the orange blossoms that were near your little townhouse you two lived in.

"I wanted to," He reminded you softly as his voice vibrated against your skin, "You're still healing, and I wanna be here for you as you heal: for the good and the bad, remember?"

You gulped and nodded your head, tears were falling freely now as Azriel pushed them away with his thumb. You knew Azriel would enver be parted from you for far too long, not anymore after he nearly lost you under the mountain for all the time. He swore to you that he would be at your side throughout your healing process, after hearing from Madja that it would take some time for you to bounce back to where you used to be. Madja laid it on thick and wasn't sugar coating it: you went through shit thanks to Amarantha.

Rhysand protected you from worsening nightmares, thanks to his persuasion and the methods he had to use on Aramantha. He didn't mind being her "whore" so to speak, since it would give him the opportunity to talk Amarantha down from selling your own body in return. You were grateful for him and his willingness to place his neck on the line for you, and when Azriel heard of this news, he could only thank Rhysand and owe him his life for saving you.

Azriel turned on the water and got the water flowing in the tub, then stripped off his own clothes slowly as you felt the water rising in the tub. The piping hot water along your sensitive skin was both soothing and yet uncomfortable, but it was better than being cold. Azriel, now bare and his shadows diminishing a bit against his wings, got into the bath behind you and leaned back against the back of the tub. With gentleness, he touched your bareback soothingly with his fingers and moved them up and down along the nobs of your spine.

The same scarred hands that were damaged when he was a boy, the very hands that had raised hell and fears in others with how deadly they are holding Truth Teller, were beyond gentle and loving to you as he was coaxing you to unwind and unravel from your fears. He never once gave you a sense of fear with his fingers and palms, on the contrary he was always soothing and kind.

Even after you two were reunited from under the mountain and became mates not too long after, Azriel stayed gentle. Maybe it was your love language, the delicate touch that made you feel so safe and loved at the same time. You had to wonder if he was like this with just his friends, but Cassian told you with reassurance it was just with you.

"Trust me, Az is not one to be a softy. Only with those he trusts with his life, and that's you,"

"Come back, my love," Azriel hummed at you, you unwinding your legs and finding yourself being leaned back against his muscular chest. The firmness of his chest along your back made you sigh in relief and his arms were linked along yours as your side. Your legs bracketing one another, and you knew he was doing that on the surface. No matter if you two were naked and bare in the tub, Velaris was right outside your curtain-drawn window, and the world going on with ease, you two were in the moment together. Azriel knew to ground you by touch, whether it was holding your hand or hugging you in bed, he knew how to calm you come skin contact. He was the same way: you would touch his shoudler when he was stressed or kiss the side of his head when life was too much. You helped him so much when he was in the rough patches.

Now he was going to help you heal in return.

He started to hum as the water magically stopped at the right spot, you both were mostly submerged under the water as the steam was rising in the air and along your face and neck. His humming was a song, an old lullaby you knew belonged to his mother who would sing to him when he was a little boy. He taught you the song in the earlier part of your friendship, and you thought the song was beautiful.

Ever since then, he would only hum it to you as a reminder: The song that was sung by the first woman he loved was now sung to the love of his life.

As he hummed, you moved his arms to drape around your chest and waist, cradling you against him as your eyes closed. Azriel never pushed you when it came to touching, especially as you were healing. So for you to make the first move and let you hold you close in his arms, Azriel felt his heart shift. He didn't care how long the process will take for you to be full again, he only knew that you were there in his arms, willing to lte him help you heal.

And you did heal, becoming stronger than ever.

The End

May Prompt Session

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x female reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x oc #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #acomaf fanfiction #acotar fluff #acotar fanfiction

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