#please can anyone tell what this could mean I’m losing my mind
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This bitter life.
pairing: Blade x g/n!reader
Part 1, Part 2.
Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.
In other words, you die and he’s miserable.
Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, really slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.
A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.
(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)
For all of Blade’s life, life has always been and will always be truly and utterly miserable.
If he were asked to recount the many times he wished he just died, he would lose count. From a promising life with the high-cloud quintet, from being the renowned crafter of weapons, to being just Blade. His pain does not give him the liberty to dream of a future, he does not have the privilege to close his eyes and dream of his youth when he is only constantly plagued with the thousands of screams who scream his name.
For a man who does not have the right to love, the right to dream and wish for death, just this once, the Aeons were kind enough to give him you.
He met you in unforeseen circumstances, he was gravely injured after another fight with some soldiers on some planet. Blade knows that he won’t die now, but he feels like dying. His stomach slashed by a poison so advanced it eats him from inside out, but oh how kind of the gods to bless him you.
”Hey, stay awake!” It was the first time in his life he’s heard a desperate cry, not out of fear for your life, but for his.
You did not know him, neither did he know you but it was like second nature to protect him.
The destroyer of worlds, the monster from the Stellaron hunters, the exiled one, you only saw a dying man.
He felt a damp cloth pressing on his stomach, “Please hang on.” Just who were you to tell him what to do? You just had to be there at that exact moment. Through blurry eyes, he could not make out what your face looked like, not like he could ever remember.
Blade could remember your voice, it was loud yet soothing, then he felt bandages wrap around his torso as someone carried him. He lost consciousness that night.
His eyes flutter open, was he really that weak to fall under the influence of that poison?
“You’re awake.”
He groans and sits up, his spine hurts like hell. “Who the hell are you?”
”Hey buddy, no need for hostility, I’m the one who saved your life.” His eyes follow you when you roll your eyes at him, ignoring his shit and jotting down whatever on your clipboard.
He stays silent when you come closer to him, your face getting a little too close than his liking, “Can you say ahh?”
Blade hesitates but he obliges, for the first time in his life, to a stranger, something in him tells him to trust you. “Ahh…”
You turn on your penlight and point it at his throat before sliding it back into your pockets, “Good, good” Blade doesn’t know what you’re doing when you stare in his eyes for 2 minutes, must be you inspecting something.
”You’re all fine, I’m surprised that you heal fast. Anyone who takes in such poison and exceeds 4 doses would die in an instant.” He thinks you’re weird.
…
In just 3 days, Blade was out of the hospital, Kafka tracked down where he was and was relieved when she found out Blade was alright.
“You’re really reckless, Bladie.”
Blade only scoffs hearing her words, it may be the truth but who cares? Certainly not him.
Just as the two were leaving the hospital for good, you followed him.
”You…” He saw you panting and gripping your knees from the exhaustion of chasing him down, he left without even informing the nurses.
He doesn’t know why you followed him, “Can I atleast have your name?”
Kafka blinks in surprise before turning away, as if she wasn’t witnessing whatever bullshit was going down.
”Excuse me?”
”Your name.”
”Why do I have to tell you?”
”I saved your life for fucks sake!”
Blade rolls his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you but he just gives up, “Fine, Blade.”
”What?”
”Do I have to repeat myself?”
He’s really mean, but he doesn’t scare you, which surprises him. You don't flinch at his words, but whatever. He thinks that he won’t have to see you again. (You almost crack up a laugh, who the fuck name's their child Blade?)
You don’t push him any further and let him leave, you want to learn more about him.
So for the following days, you ask people if they knew who that ‘Blade’ was, where did he work at, what he truly was because which idiot would end up wounded in a ditch at a place that’s practically considered a warzone in your planet. Not only that, but you were also intrigued and curious about his ability to heal fast and resist the poison.
You don’t find any information regarding that strange man, but one thing’s for sure, he’s dangerous.
Like clockwork, Blade comes again to the planet “Clove-V” to exterminate some pests because some idiot decided to mess with the Stellearon hunters. Gut a soldier, gain information, leave– is what he’s supposed to do.
Blade stares at the bloodied sword of his, “This goddamn poison again.”
He feels weak, clutching his stomach and he needs to leave before anyone catches up on him again. So he leaves the building only to drop unconscious.
Again, he is back to that familiar hospital room where he was just a few weeks ago.
”You’re back.” You scrunch your nose again, the squeaky writing on the clipboard hurting his ears.
He’s too tired to say something snarky, but he sighs in annoyance.
”You look worse than last time,” his gaze never leaves you when you come closer to inspect his throat and eyes like last time, “How do you keep getting in situations like these?”
He stays quiet, but you keep persisting with him to give you an answer.
Was he an assassin? A murderer?! One of the IPC slaves– no, no, he looks different from them, a little too proper (but bloodied), maybe from the Xianzhou luofu? So when you heal his wounds, you can’t help but ask, “Are you a murderer?”
Must you really force an answer out of him?
”Do I not look like one?” Were you such a fool to ask such an obvious answer?
You sat back down on the comfort of the cushion chair, “I didn’t want to assume”
”Now you know.”
“Yeah.”
He’s curious, when you find out that he’s a murderer, you’re not afraid, you do not run away or distance yourself, “Why do you kill people?”
He stays silent again, you don’t know the specifics, but you know the answer.
“I’ll get going now,” clearing your throat, “Just use the call button if you need help, one of the nurses will attend to you.”
And again, for 2 days, he is out of the hospital.
“You really keep ending up in that hospital, don’t you?” Kafka laughs, throwing away the Blade’s admission.
As they left, he could see you staring at him from your office. It was embarrassing enough that he caught you watching him leave so intently, Blade saw the curtains immediately close.
Again and again, he keeps getting wound up in that same hospital, might as well be stuck there forever.
”I’m no longer surprised you’re here again Blade.” It’s weird, when his name slips out from your lips, it sounds less scary (people often associate his name with fear and murder, but you call him like he’s any other man)
8 visits to your clinic, you might as well be his personal doctor.
“I know you’re a murderer but do you constantly have to be injured every month? I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just to see me.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” He scoffs.
”I was merely jesting.”
He cocks his head to the side, he sees you more often than he meets with Sam. You turn on your penlight again, unlike his first visit, he obliges without putting up a fight.
“Nothing unusual, you’re good to go.” You speak in between coughs, which surprises Blade. Lately, you were sicker than usual, pale and run-down.
”Are you okay?”
”Excuse me?”
”Nevermind.”
He should mind his own business, this is strictly a patient and doctor relationship. But he can’t help but wonder, if you looked that sick, shouldn’t you be on leave? You leave his hospital room without a word, he’s still curious.
He left, but this time, he didn’t see you looking out from your office window to watch where he was going.
Months pass by, by now he would’ve forgotten about you. But in the back of his head, he’s still wondering how are you? It isn’t for him to inquire about your personal life. He is still tempted to know more about you, so, he ends up wounded on that planet again (much to silverwolf’s dismay, he was supposed to be on a different mission)
He wakes up again in that hospital room, your coughs were loud enough to wake him up, “You keep coming back, I should just give you medicine so you don’t have to always end up here”
In truth, he just wanted to see you. It was unlike him to think about someone this much but he can’t help but be curious (worried, but he would never admit that.)
He felt the back of your palm press on his forehead, good thing he didn’t have a fever, “Your temperature’s okay.” He is worried, you speak in between coughs he could barely register your words. For a moment when you touched his skin, he felt his mara quelled, even for just a mere second.
“I want to ask, who are you really?” He’s taken by surprise by your question, something he expected but not one he expected now.
”I’m a stellaron hunter.” Oh.
A stellaron hunter, huh? “Why did you become one?”
He asks himself, why did he become one? Other than for when that day comes, he will be free, he will die. He can’t form a full answer, “I don’t know.” It’s better to give an answer, to lie, rather than be someone who cannot answer such a simple question.
“I see.” But you see through him, but you’re not close enough to him to question him about who he truly is. So you’ll know him through medicine, you’ll heal him to get to know who he is if he cannot give you a clear answer.
You gave him your name, because after 9 visits, he should know your name already. “What?”
”My name.”
He nods along, he’ll make sure to not forget it. You were sure he’s okay now, his vitals are back to normal, but before you leave, he calls out your name.
“You…” There was a look of confusion on your face, “Nevermind” He wanted to ask about your health, why were you still working? By seeing your current health, you’re close to death at this point. But he keeps his concerns to himself; after all, what does he know of you other than a doctor?
But even months pass by, he still wants to understand you. You do not look at him with contempt unlike his victims, and even if he had visited 12 times now, you did not seem annoyed; maybe even thrilled with the company.
He does not care for hobbies or games, he’s not like silverwolf whose life revolves around games and other things, he’s not like kafka who takes pleasure in playing with her food (her victims), he’s definitely not gentle and kind like Firefly.
So Blade does not understand why you’re fond of things like these, a monopoly board? Really? It’s stupid, very. But it’s the only way you two can understand each other, even if it means wasting time like this.
You rolled a 6 and landed on a community chest, “God damn it.”
He squints his eye when you got a card that said ‘Go to jail’, what the fuck was this game even about? “I don’t get this game”
He really doesn’t, but he rolls another and lands on some unclaimed property and buys it, “No shit, but you’re a lucky bastard.”
“I don’t get why we’re playing this stupid game, even checkers seem more appealing.” Finally getting out of jail, you rolled a 5 and landed on his property, going bankrupt. “You know what? Fuck this game.”
He doesn’t even understand how he won, he’d much prefer if you two read in silence or something. “That was a stupid game”
“You’re stupid.”
”Excuse me?”
Then you two go at it and fight again, but it was fun. The most fun he’s had in years (as if he ever knew what fun truly is)
But life is not kind, time is limited and you cannot trade gems or blood for 5 more minutes. He’s known that rule all his life, to never get attached ever again because he’ll be miserable, he’ll lose himself the way he lost who he truly was when he was still Yingxing. Yet, humans will always be humans; mortals, immortals, they are the same. And he is no exception.
After his 23rd visit for the past 2 years– going 3, he remembers small details about you. You studied at this university for a few extra years because you kept getting a failing grade, you like roping him up in stupid games (you tried to make him play twister once, it was you who got a twisted ankle), you like reading and everything else.
For all his cursed, miserable life, he slowly found reason, a part of him feels human again.
“You don’t look good.”
A stifled cough escaped you, “You think?”
You were on sick leave, he found out where you lived after asking forcing one of the nurses where you lived. Blade found you on the couch, sprawled with only a thin blanket covering you. He doesn’t care for anyone, just this once, though, just this once.
”Have you eaten yet?” It makes you laugh at how caring he is, the most unexpected side of him, after all.
You shook your head, “No.”
A cough seized you so suddenly, Blade’s worries did not go away. He doesn’t know how to cook, much less how to take care of a person.
”You have a fever,” he hands you a glass of water, but it was not enough to ease your pain.
You wish to close your eyes, but even the small contracting of your muscles ache, when you drink, it hurts, when you move, it hurts. It hurts to live at this point but you endure, “Why did you come?”
“I had to.”
”Why exactly?”
”Just shut up and let me take care of you.”
You could only faintly chuckle at his words when he gets a warm cloth to put it on your forehead, “What else do I do?”
Nighttime came but he has not left yet, he can’t leave just yet, “Tell me.”
There was no use, whatever he did would not help you get through with this illness of yours. “Just tell me.” You did not have the energy to argue or talk, but he did not get the hint so he continued to pester you for an answer.
”Can you please stop talking? I need to sleep.”
”Fine.”
Tomorrow came, only Blade was right beside you, staring intently at you; a part of him afraid you won’t wake up again.
”You’re awake.” Blade always had that nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with worry. Were you dreaming or was he really right beside you and worried for your well being? A part of you wished you still were, having company is the best when you’re ill.
You coughed softly, “Yes.”
Why didn’t he leave? Was he worried? You must be insane to think that way, he is just your old patient who just so happened to always end up in the hospital under your care.
The man in front of you sat beside you and stared at you for a while, not knowing what to do, “What do I do next?”
Ah. He rarely shows emotion on his face but his pupils dilate for a split second, you can’t die but you were so close to dying, he’s no doctor, he has no expertise in taking care of anyone but for just this moment he wished he did.
“Just keep me company.” He nods.
Note: cries cries cries bc the full fic is so long i have to make it into 2 parts :((( im abt to post part 2 pls pls wait 😔😔😔
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡
#what have i done#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr fluff#hsr x reader#honkai star rail angst#blade smut#blade x reader#blade x gender neutral reader#blade fluff#blade angst#honkai star rail fluff#hsr angst#hsr
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Ok this is very random and old news but I’m rewatching some videos on myhouse.wad and had been reading some posts about it mostly the ones that talked about how it can be interpreted as a queer horror story of Thomas and Steven, there’s a lot of obvious context that fits the story but there’s one thing that I’m wondering about.
The baby bottle.
Almost every other item you collect in My House are relics that Steven shared with Tom, the most notable item is a wedding ring which is very clear it can be that Steve and Tom were married, in the airport section you go into the women’s restroom where it becomes covered in blood then you pick up the pills and leave but the sign changes to the men’s restroom but this also makes sense if you believe that either Steve or Tom were trans or questioning their gender identity. These can easily fit into the thematics of Steve and Tom being lgbt.
But the one thing that I haven’t really seen mentioned with this theory is how the baby bottle fits into this. When you go into the attic there’s a crib with a baby bottle in it, when you pick it up it says “it wasn’t meant to be” which sounds a lot like a miscarriage or at least some form of child loss. Not to mention how one of Steven’s diary entries talks about a dream he had where he saw a baby in the crib but it wasn’t doing so well and cried which made him freak out and wake up.
Now what I’m wondering is did Steve and Tom have a child that they adopted? Did Steve used to be married to a woman and she miscarried? I know people don’t care about this mod anymore but for like the 2 people left can anyone please give me their thoughts about what the bottle could mean?
#myhouse.wad#tw miscarriage#my house#doom mods#doom#indie horror game#horror games#not off#please can anyone tell what this could mean I’m losing my mind#I really want to know how the baby bottle is supposed to fit in this context#everything else makes total sense and it really cements the themes of the story#but it’s just this one roadblock that I haven’t really seen anyone talk about#sorry this isn’t off related I just go into random rabbit holes sometimes
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Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?
(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)
I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️
Ghost x FVirgin!Reader
Word count: 2,9 k
Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink
Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down.
A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet.
This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.
I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me.
I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.
Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘
Simon Riley was a one of a kind man.
He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him.
Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.
Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.
And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.
Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him.
After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.
A bedrock.
With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.
After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.
In real life, things were not that breezy.
Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two?
What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth?
It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.
He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.
Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.
And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was.
He felt safe.
In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects.
Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?
You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth?
Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone.
Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm.
Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.
Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside.
. . .
Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.
The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.
"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy.
You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck.
"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.
"Don't be. This has been fun."
He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest.
"But it's about time I torture you, right?"
Oh God…
Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.
He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.
He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant.
His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.
The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.
"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.
"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.
"You afraid…?"
"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.
"Mm. That makes two of us."
He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient.
Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy.
He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.
"Alright… Come here."
He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide.
The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding.
You feel both lost and found with him. In him.
He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.
Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.
"Simon…?"
"Mm-hm?"
He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.
"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.
Great…
Here comes the awkward.
He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.
"Is that so?"
His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.
"Yes…?"
A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch.
"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"
Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.
He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower.
He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.
"Sweetheart."
His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…
"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.
"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.
"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."
You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.
He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.
"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.
I want you.
You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.
"You want it?"
"Yes."
That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.
“You want it with me?”
“Yes.”
"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.
"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.
"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."
Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear.
His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.
"Oh–"
He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.
"You like that?"
"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.
"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."
You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.
"Simon?"
"Speak your mind, love."
"Are you disappointed…?"
He stops again, a breath away from you.
"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"
He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.
"Love, I'm honored."
You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.
"Silly little thing…"
It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.
You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.
"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."
The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…
"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"
The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside.
Oh God oh God–
You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.
"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"
You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen.
"Yes."
#ghost x you#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley fluff#simon riley imagine#ghost imagine#ghost fluff#is this too soft?#is there such a thing as too soft#omg I think I'm part of the Ghost babygirl crew now#i accept my fate#also no beta we die like men
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ten things yang jeongin says when he thinks you’re asleep — fluff, established relationship, a bit of angst
chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | JEONGIN
one. i was thinking about you earlier. nothing in particular, just—who you are. and it made me wish i’d known you sooner. everything about my life right now is infinitely better now that you’re in it.
two. i’d give anything to stop time every moment that i’m with you.
three. i found my old diary when i went home today. i know, yes, i was an angsty teenage boy with a diary. i quickly went through it just to see what i wrote. ah, if you saw it, you’d definitely laugh. but… one entry caught my eye. it was from a few years ago and it was at a point of my life when i thought nobody could ever love me. not even in a romantic sense, just generally and i was praying to anyone who would listen that i’d find someone who’d understand. i’m glad i held on and didn’t break because a year later, i met you. funny how things turn out, right? i don’t even know why i’m telling you this. i just, i guess i just wanted to thank you for coming into my life. you’re the kind of person i always hoped i’d find.
four. i know i’m not the best at understanding emotions, but i feel them very deeply with you. please give me time. i promise i’ll get to know my feelings better.
five. seungmin told me earlier how i don’t say ‘i love you’ a lot. he’s right, but it’s only because i don’t want my expressions of love to be light. that’s why i don’t say it often because i don’t want it to be thrown around like that. i want to say it in important moments. but i find that i want to tell you that every day. i think it’s because every moment with you is important to me. so, please don’t think my words are empty when i say them too much. i promise it’s never light when i tell you i love you. i mean it. i mean it so much that sometimes it scares me.
six. do you know the exact moment i knew i was in love with you? i can still remember it clearly. it wasn’t anything crazy, in fact it was just an ordinary day. you were over at my dorm and we had been laughing at this romcom that just came out, and then i felt it. i felt it when i had looked at you, how i wouldn't mind doing this forever. i hope i can love you for the rest of my life.
seven. i always think back fondly of college because of you. it would've been hell if it wasn't with you.
eight. i was thinking earlier, about how fleeting life really is. i don't—i don't even know what triggered me to think about it. how someone could be alive one minute and then gone the next. i don't like that... i don't like how abrupt endings always are. i don't want any moment with you to be the last, god, i can't even bear the thought of losing you. ah, fuck, i'm crying. fuck, sorry. i just, please don't leave me. please don't let it happen to you. i know you have no control over it, but please, please, please. please.
nine. cheer up, darling. i know things don't look too good right now, but what if things just get better from now on? i promise that your efforts at healing are adding up, so just hold onto me for now. you will always have me to hold on to.
ten. you are the best thing that's ever been mine.
#k-labels#stray kids x reader#jeongin x reader#i.n x reader#i.n. x reader#skz x reader#stray kids drabbles#stray kids blurbs#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#yang jeongin x reader#stray kids drabble#stray kids oneshot#stray kids fluff#jeongin fluff#i.n imagine#i.n fluff#i.n. scenarios#i.n. fluff#i.n. imagines#yang jeongin imagines#yang jeongin scenarios#yang jeongin drabbles#yang jeongin fluff
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You’re a girl?!
how the twst boys find out you’re a girl & their reactions
tags: afab, accidental touches
a/n: very much self indulgent BUT I COUNDNT STOP THINKING 🤔 what if because it was a boys school that they didn’t have skirts and basically Crowley just made you wear the uniform & you didn't tell anyone. Like epel and lilia’s case, they just thought you were a feminine guy (p.s I just started and I haven’t read any spoilers, except for some info from reddit so I’m very sorry if this has already been covered/ revealed) very gacha coded but PLSSSSS bear this brain rot with me
Some spoilers: until book 3
Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚
Ace
This can go two ways. Firstly, is that he was chasing deuce or Grimm around and you happen to be walking around the corner. And BAM. You’re both on the ground with him on top of you, caging you into his arms. With both his hands conveniently placed on two lumps on your chest. It takes him a good 3 seconds of staring and squeezing before he realises what they are. What you are. Immediately feels embarrassed and starts screaming and scarmbling to get up.
Orrr he has gotten so used to coming into ramshackle house as he pleases and barges into your room without knocking. You’re both guys, so what’s the problem? Big mistake. Because you’re changing and literally only in your under garments. He’s all red and hot faced before he’s running out of your room and the house into the walkway to calm himself down.
The next time he faces you, he’s apologising while avoiding eye contact. He knows you’ve been through thick and thin together but it really did feel as though his whole world view was shattered when he found out. When he’s hanging out with you, he’s much more careful of where he places his hand and tries to look out for you. Definitely tried to act more manly as well, like when there's an overblot about to happen he either pushes you behind him or blocks you with his body..
Deuce
The way i see this going down is that he’s got his gangster mode on from whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into (or for convenience sake; the broken eggs in book 1). And he’s trying to push you away to stop you from stopping HIM from picking a fight. And something soft hits his forearm. He turns to look at you chest before he quickly realises. He’s screaming like a banshee while moving as far away as he can from you. The initial quarrel was forgotten and now his head is spinning. Thoughts like “what would my mother think if she knew what i did??”, “HES A GIRL?! I MEAN SHE” and so on. The walk back to the kitchen is so quiet that you could basically hear Grimm’s grumbling all the way from Heartsbyul kitchen. Once you arrived back at the kitchen, the guys are wondering why its so quiet between you two but pay no mind to it.
He gets awkward around you every once in a while when realises how close the two of you are but still tries to make up for it. Also becomes more diligent in trying to withhold his gangster personality. He doesn’t want to show anymore of his nasty side to you when he can show you how well he can treat you. Lest he wants to lose you to some other guys…
Trey
This one's tough. I don't know if he has sisters so let's just say that he has. He's one of the first few to realize that you're a girl, being the ever observant person that he is. He sees the pattern when you start getting a little bit more emotional than you are. Snapping at Adeuce and Grimm when you're usually much more patient, getting upset at small things or when he catches you tearing up when you talk about returning to your own world. Yeah he definitely knows.
So it's no surprise when you start to receive more baked treats from him and he's piling up all sorts of nutritious food onto your plate when you sit together. The others are wondering why he's doing that when you're capable of doing it yourself. It's only after several months of this treatment that you realize he knows that you're a girl. And when you confront him about it, "I can't help but want to take care of you when I see you".
Riddle
I like to think that you’re having tea together. He’s invited you to another one of their dorm’s many reason to have tea. Grimm and Ace are fighting for the last cookie and accidentally knock into you as you pick up your teacup. Splashing the liquid all over your dress shirt. Riddle is of course, furious. Rule #363, never spill your tea. Especially on a Tuesday. He’s screaming at them both when his eyes move to check if you’re okay. And that’s when he sees some blue peeking out at the wet area of your shirt. It takes him a quick second to march over to you and drape his blazer over you. “You should go back and change. Make sure to take a warm bath unless you want to catch a cold.” You nod at him confusedly. He watches as you make your way down the steps. He turns to the rest of the members with pink tinted cheeks. “Unfortunately this tea party will have to be cancelled,” and he quickly turns back to walk to his dorm before anyone can say anything.
The next time you see him, his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s trying very hard to not make eye contact with you. Overall, most of your relationship stays the same except that he’s inviting you over for tea more often. But this time its just the two of you. And his excuse? It changes every time. Sometimes its because he says he wants to talk about Adeuce and Grimm’s behaviour, and sometimes it’s because he wants your thoughts on which tea set is better.
Cater
For his case, it's not that he found out, rather he overheard it from a rowdy pair of first years and a cat. He was walking to his next class and about to turn around the corner when he overheard their not so very hushed conversation. His eyes widen very similarly to the saucers that they use for tea. He's kind of upset that he didn't find out himself, but learned it through someone else. Oh well. It's a win-win situation for him anyways.
So when he starts being much more clingier to you and offering to walk you to your classes do you start to get suspicious. He’s always coming over to sit together at your table and visiting you at Ramshackle more. Lounging on the beaten up sofa while you do whatever work you have to. Keeping you company for as long as he can. Or at least until Riddle calls him back or you kick him out. Whichever comes first.
Now imagine there’s a celebration of some sort and he’s excitedly running up the steps to Ramshackle to formally invite you as his date. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiles cheekily. And from behind him he pulls out a beautiful dress. “Will you be my date?” No misunderstanding his gestures now.
reblogs appreciated!
#twst x reader#cater x reader#deuce x reader#ace x reader#trey x reader#heartslabyul x reader#riddle x reader#twst wonderland#twst mc#twst#twst yuu#heartslabyul#x reader#ace trappola#ace trapolla x reader#deuce spade#deuce spade x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#disney twst#trey clover#trey clover x reader#cater diamond#cater diamond x reader#Twst cater#Twst trey#Twst riddle#Twst ace#twisted wonderland x reader#Twst deuce
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Love of a Lifetime
Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader
Summary: You've been friends with Eddie for years and had a crush on him for months but you've always been too scared to tell him. He found out and you're scared this will be the end of the friendship but he surprises you.
18+ ONLY!
You stood, palms sweaty, breath ragged, feeling like your heart was going to shatter into a million pieces all over the floor. Eddie had overheard a conversation between you and Robin that had not been meant for his ears, a conversation where you had spilled how for the last six months you'd been in love with your best friend. It was never supposed to happen but he was so damn perfect.
No one else in your life got you like Eddie did. No one else knew exactly when you needed silence, just covering your hand with his own or placing his arm reassuringly around your shoulder. No one else knew when you needed to let loose and do stupid shit just because life got too serious and heavy. No one else knew your favorite snacks, your secret fears, your ridiculous dreams. Eddie was everything. He'd always been the one person who could make you feel safe, the one person who could calm your crazy, the one person who made everything alright.
Everything between you two had been easy forever. Being with him was effortless, like breathing and then, poof, it wasn't. Being around him became torture because you knew you loved him but you were terrified of ruining your friendship. You couldn't risk losing the most important person in your life so you tried to fight it, telling yourself it was a stupid crush. It would go away, but it didn't. And now, he was confronting you and you were waiting for your world to topple sideways.
“You’ve been battling these feelings for six months,” Eddie said, gazing down at you as you held your breath. “I’ve been battling these feelings for three years.”
“I…uh…” you began, shaking your head. He couldn’t possibly mean what you hoped he meant. This was just wishful thinking. No, there was no way. Your head was spinning, like a full on exorcist twist right now. “What?”
“Princess, I need to know if you’re sure.”
“If I’m sure?”
You couldn’t keep up. You couldn’t wrap your brain around what he was trying to say. What the hell was happening right now? You knew what you wanted to happen, but you couldn’t let yourself believe that was what was happening here. There was no way.
Eddie stepped into you and you tried to back away, to put distance between you, but found yourself pressed against the wall of your room. Eddie’s hands came up to rest on either side of your head, trapping you in the circle of his arms.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. “Because, I am telling you, I need you to be sure. We do this, and this is it for me. There will never be anything else or anyone else for me. If you’re sure, I am going to dive into this completely, sink into oblivion with you forever. If you’re not, then I will back off and we can go back to being friends. But either way, you are going to stay in my life.”
Your mouth hung open, your eyes watching him. Your mouth moved but no sounds were coming out. You were struggling to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth.
“Princess,” he whispered, his finger gently lifting your chin as he lowered his mouth close to yours. “I need you to tell me what you want. Please, sweetheart, just say it.”
“I want you,” you breathed.
“Finally,” he groaned.
His lips crashed into yours and it felt like coming home, like sitting in front of a warm fire after spending hours in the cold, like someone turning on the light after you’d been plunged in darkness for too long. No kiss had ever felt like this. No kiss that had ever come before this mattered. You thought you had imagined how kissing Eddie would feel, but nothing you'd ever conjured in your mind could compare to this moment.
Your fingers slid into his hair, tangling through the mahogany waves you loved so much. His hips pressed against you, pushing you against the wall. Every single inch of your bodies were touching and it still didn’t feel like enough.
Eddie's tongue slid across your lips and you parted them, meeting it with your own. A low groan rumbled out of his chest as his fingers slid under the hem of your sweatshirt. When his fingertips, rough and calloused from years of playing guitar, met the skin of your abdomen, you sighed softly, thinking you never should have let anyone touch you that wasn’t him. His fingers danced along your ribcage as they moved ever higher.
“Eddie…” you whispered.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, pulling his hand away.
“No,” you breathed.
He grinned, “Thank God.”
Gripping your hips, he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and carried you over to the bed, laying you back on it. This should feel weird, right? After all these years of being friends, shouldn’t the thought of being intimate with him feel uncomfortable? But it didn’t. It felt right in a way that nothing in your life ever had. It felt inevitable, as if this was always how it was meant to happen. There was not a doubt in your mind that you were ready for this, that you wanted all of him.
Eddie grabbed onto the bottom of your sweatshirt as he asked, “Is this okay?”
You nodded and lifted yourself up slightly as he pulled the fabric over your head. You bit your bottom lip, falling back on the bed and covering yourself with your arms. You were no cheerleader like the ones he'd been with before, the ones who snuck around with the freak but never wanted anyone to know. And, even though Eddie had seen you change before, this time just felt different. Was he comparing you to their perfect little figures because you knew you couldn’t compare.
“No,” he breathed, grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your chest. “Don’t do that, not with me.” He fell forward, bracing himself with his hands on either side of your head. “Princess, you are beautiful.” His lips left a blazing trail along your jaw, down the side of your neck, along your collarbone. “You are perfect.” Then his lips were following the curve of your breast, moving along the valley between them. “You are everything to me.” When his tongue flicked over your nipple, you shuddered, moaning softly.
As his tongue danced slow, lazy circles around one nipple, his hand groped your other breast, massaging it gently. You arched up to meet him, your hand cradling the back of his head. His thumb and forefinger began to roll your other nipple before pinching it and you bit your lip to keep from crying out.
His lips began trailing back up your body, following the same path in reverse until his mouth was right next to your ear. He pressed his hips into yours and you groaned at the sensation of his erection against your core. Jesus, you wanted this man in every single way possible.
“Sweetheart, I have wanted this for so long,” Eddie whispered against your ear as he continued to rock his hips against yours. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him against you, matching his rhythm. “Shit…” His head fell forward and you could feel his hair brushing along her cheeks. “I want to feel every single part of you.”
He slid his body from on top of you so he was lying next to you. His arms wound around you, pulling you to him so your back was pressed against his chest. His lips pressed kisses against the back of your neck and your shoulder blade as his hand slid along your hip to your pelvis, his hand just resting there for a moment.
“I want to make you feel good. Can I touch you?” he rumbled.
“You can do anything you want to me,” you responded, completely lost in the ecstasy that was Eddie’s hands and lips on your skin.
“Jesus,” Eddie groaned.
His fingers slid into your sweatpants and under your panties. Then they were moving through the soft curls between your legs and between the folds of skin there to find your clit. You gasped as his fingers began circling around it but not quite touching it. His lips continued pressing gentle kisses along your neck, his other hand leisurely playing with your breast.
“Eddie…” you breathed, grinding your ass against him, delighted at the sounds he made.
“Does this feel good?” he asked, now using two fingers to apply pressure in a downward v-shape on either side of your clit. “Tell me princess. Tell me how it feels.”
“So good,” you managed, every word trembling out of you. “No one has ever made me feel this good.”
“And no one ever will,” he said, his two fingers sliding down to find your entrance, pressing into you. You moaned, your head falling back, exposing your neck further. “You’re mine now sweetheart, forever.” His lips latched onto your neck, sucking on the skin hard. His fingers curled inside of you, hitting places you didn’t know existed, didn’t know could make you feel so good. You felt his teeth gently bite down and you shrieked as your orgasm came with a vengeance, sending your entire body off balance. Your eyes rolled back in your head, every muscle shaking. Eddie didn’t let up, working you through the waves of frenzy until your body finally settled. You whimpered softly as his fingers slid from your body.
You sat up, turning, frantically pulling his shirt over his head. You needed to feel him. You had dreamed of this moment for so long. You'd waited for it to be him. This was everything you'd ever wanted. You needed to know how it felt to be as connected to him as you could be. As you grabbed onto his belt, his hands fell over yours, stopping you.
“Princess, are you sure?” he asked, his hands coming to cup your face gently. “We don’t have to do this. I know you’ve never…I’ve been waiting for you for three years. I don’t mind waiting a little longer.”
“I don’t want to wait,” you insisted, shaking your head. “Eddie, the only reason I haven’t even been with anyone is because I’ve been waiting for it to be you. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
His eyes sparkled gently in the light coming from the window. He pulled your face to his, gently pressing his lips to yours. You worked on his belt again, sliding it from the loops and tossing it to the floor before moving to his pants.
“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right,” he insisted. Standing, he removed the rest of his clothes and you marveled at the sight of him, completely bare to you. You'd seen him in nothing but boxers, but something about this, every inch of him exposed and knowing he was yours, it was an unparalleled moment.
“You’re perfect,” you whispered softly, your hand reaching out and wrapping around his cock. Eddie gasped, his head falling back at your touch. Rising to your knees, you pulled his lips back to yours, your hand moving along his length. He moaned into your mouth, his tongue exploring every inch of yours as you continued to work him in your hand.
“Princess,” he groaned, grabbing your hand. “I love the feel of you touching me but I need to be inside of you.”
Heat raced straight to your core at his words and you could feel how wet you were already becoming at the thought of finally taking the next step with the right person. This had been all you had ever dreamt of when you thought of this moment. You knew it had to be him. It would have been wasted with anyone else.
Eddie placed his hands on the bed, crawling along your body and forcing you to lie back. Slowly, he gripped your sweatpants and panties at the same time and slid them along your legs. He sat back, his eyes admiring every inch of you, from head to toe.
“Goddamn…I always knew you were beautiful,” he said, pressing his lips against your stomach, “but sweetheart, you are the most fucking perfect thing I have ever seen.”
You were certain your entire body was blazing red as you felt the flush of heat race over your skin. You had never felt more beautiful, more desired, than you did in this moment with him. He grabbed a condom from his jeans and slid it over himself before settling between your thighs.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
You nodded and watched as Eddie slowly and gently began to press himself into you. He was being so very careful, taking his time, allowing your body time to adjust to him. You winced for a moment but only a moment. You'd done enough other things that the pain wasn’t what you'd heard about from other girls.
“Are you okay princess?” he asked, those beautiful brown eyes full of concern. He leaned forward on his elbows, his hands gently holding your face. “We’ll take it slow, okay?”
“I’m okay…” you assured him. He began to move his hips, slowly back and forth, his length filling you and then almost leaving you before filling you once again. You adjusted slightly at the discomfort but then it was gone and all you could feel was the perfection of your two bodies becoming one. You moaned, your hands sliding along his arms to grip his shoulders.
Eddie braced himself with his forearms, pressing his forehead against yours as he increased his pace slightly. “I want to feel everything with you, princess. It should have been you. It always should have been you.”
Tears trickled out of the sides of your eyes, running down your cheeks. You were completely overwhelmed with all of the sensations and emotions that were flooding your system. Your hands gripped the back of his head, keeping your faces close, needing to feel every part of him you could.
His hips moved even faster, his lips planting kisses along your forehead, your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hips moving up to meet his, matching him thrust for thrust.
“Oh fuck, Eddie…” you moaned, your eyes rolling up in her head. All this time, you'd had no idea what you had been missing, how amazing this could feel. But you knew you'd made the right decision. Somehow you knew this wouldn’t feel like this with anyone else.
“Sweetheart, I’m so close,” he grunted, his arms sliding beneath you to cradle you against him as he continued to move, every inch of your skin pressed against every inch of his. “Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.”
You held him against you, feeling yourself rising toward your peak once again, your stomach tightening in anticipation. You held your breath as your muscles tensed, clenching down around him. He roared your name as his own climax surged. Gently pulling out of you, he slid the condom off, tossing it in the trash can by your bed.
Gathering you close to him, he pulled the comforter over you both and pressed his lips against your forehead, “Jesus Christ princess, I love you. I am so fucking in love with you.”
“I love you too,” you replied, curling into him, trying to remind yourself that this wasn’t another one of your dreams. This was reality. If you closed your eyes, he wouldn’t disappear. Eddie was real and he was here and he was all yours.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#joe quinn#joseph quinn#eddie munson is a sweetheart
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NSFW IMAGINE
Warnings: Msub, Dacryphilia, Afab reader, Pet Names: Love, Pretty Boy, Mommy kink Degradation, Praise, Like one Dick Slap, Mind break, Masochism, BDSM, Mean Fdom
Synopsis: Leaving your subby bf at home tied up with a prostate vibrator shoved up his ass while you go to run errands.
♡︎~NSFW UNDER THE CUT~♡︎ ︎
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Subby Boys!~ Who pull you back down into bed with them voice heavy with sleepy questions as you try to get up and get ready for the day
Where are you going love~
Subby Boys!~Who try and convince you that you don’t actually have to leave, by kissing you and whispering filth into your ears -speaking a bit too haughty for your liking- when you fall back down into bed with them
“You know you don’t really have to leave Mommy~ you could always just stay here and let me serve you instead, doesn’t that sound sooo much more fun than errands~”
Subby Boys!~Who get upset with you when you tell them no, who immediately turn bratty when they don’t get their way, who start bitching about how you’re no fun and how they bet anyone else would be leaping with joy if a man fell at their feet and offered to serve them
“You’re such a cock block why can’t you skip just this once you can’t you do whatever is soooo- important that you have to leave me, later. Anyone else would be exploding with joy at the thought of using a pretty toy like me~
Subby Boys!~ Who finally realize that you’re not impressed by their teasing and let you get up a pout staining their lips while they follow close behind you -as you continue to ignore their antics- still not ready to accept the fact that you can’t just lay in bed with him all day
Common babe it’s just one day let me be your good boy yeah? I’ll do whatever you want Mommy~
Subby Boys!~ Who try to follow you into the bathroom when you finish gathering everything you need for your shower. Who whine and complain when you push them back out the door only for them to sit there obediently waiting for you to get out anyways.
“Why can’t I come in with you?! I promise I won’t try anything too scandalous~ FINE BE THAT WAY THEN ILL JUST WAIT FOR YOU TO GET OUT.”
Subby Boys!~ Who are just now realizing that they’re losing this battle while sitting outside of the bathroom listening to the pattering rhythms of the shower and are now willing to try anything to get you to stay
Subby Boys!~Who watch a little closer than they should when you exit the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel who whisper
“f-fuck…”
under their breath feeling a hard-on growing in their skin tight shorts as they watch you prance about in your makeshift dress
Subby Boys!~Who can’t resist you anymore, who walk up behind your curved figure pressing his needy cock into the swell of your ass to start grinding against you while he whimpers into your ear
“Mommy p-please don’t f-uck leave me I-I need you s-so bad”
Subby Boys!~Who are willing to take a punishment right now if it means you would pay him even the tiniest bit of your attention who would take anything you do to them with a shit eating grin if it meant that you would stay home with him and touch him
Subby Boys!~ Who know they deserve it and quite frankly deserved it much earlier in their teasing but still aren’t expecting it when you finally snap and give them what they’ve earned.
“You’re so needy that you had to act like a horny puppy and hump my ass. Honestly are you so much of a slut for me that you can’t even behave yourself bitch.”
Subby Boys!~Who let out a deep moan when you turn around and squeeze their cock to stop them from getting off who’s cock still twitches even when held so tightly in your grasp because of the names you call him who reply to you through heavy breaths
“Y-yes ma’am I-I’m your horny fucking bitch I-I love being a slut just for you p-please mommy I need you s-so bad right now”
Subby Boys!~Who wait for you to call them names just so that they can get some sick pleasure from it who want you to order them around who would really do Anything you asked
“You wanted to be my dumb fuck attention whore so bad right? Then how about you back this slutty cock up and strip for me then”
Subby Boys!~Who whimper when you let go of their throbbing cock so that they can strip for you who moan as they do so because they think that they’re finally going to get exactly what they wanted
“So obedient, mommy knew that you could be a good little cock~”
Subby Boys!~Whos face flushes res as he mewls when you slap the tip of his cock watching it bounce back into place before turning back to the closet but this time its not for clothes
Subby Boys!~Who look at you with pleading eyes when you turn back around and he sees what you have in your hands (rope, a prostate vibe and a small bottle of lube) who question
“Mommy are you going use those to punish me”
Subby Boys!~Who groan enjoying the stinging pain of you pulling him down to your eye level by his hair to put him in his place and mockingly give him your next set of instructions
“Shut the fuck up bitch a “pretty little toy” like you shouldn’t be talking. Now go get on the bed and spread that pretty ass for me pet.
Subby Boys!~Who love how harsh you’re being with him who loves how you spit his own words back at him who crawls on the bed arching his back while still on his knees putting himself on an embarrassing display for you
Look at you I knew that even a slut as stupid as you could do it good job~
Subby Boys!~Who thank you for praising him even though your tone is dripping with condescension who moan as you slap his ass making sure to teasingly rub your fingers around his hole
Th-thank you Mommy~
Subby Boys!~Who continue obediently spreading their ass for you while you take your time spreading the lube on your fingers who have to bite the sheets to quiet their moans while you prep their hole for the prostate vibrator
Subby Boys!~Who’s ass is so slutty that when you press the vibe into his hole it goes in with no resistance
Subby Boys!~Who sit still as you start tying the rope into intricate knots that bind his arms behind his back and keep his legs bent so that he can’t clamp them together to get any friction for his poor leaking cock
Subby Boys!~Who let’s out the lewdest noise you’ve ever heard when you finally turn the vibe on
Subby Boys!~Who’s already forgotten that this is a punishment and before long is begging you to cum which you happily obliged
“M-mommy ‘m c-Clos-e can I-i please c-cum”
“Of course~”
Subby Boys!~Who cum hard and loudly when you approve his request who notice that the stimulation isn’t stopping as he starts building up to a new high who don’t notice that you are fully dressed and ready to leave him there until it’s too late and he hears the bedroom door shutting behind you
“M-MOMMY PLEASE DON’T L-EAVE ME HE-HERE LIKE TH-THIS”
Subby Boys!~Who still cry for you even after he hears the front door close as well knowing that you can’t hear him
Subby Boys!~Who are still in the same position you left them in when you come back who’ve cum more times than they can count who’s milked dry and broken by the time you get back
Subby Boys!~Who hear the bedroom door open and immediately start moaning for you to help them
“p-pl-ease mom-my mommy m-mommy mommy”
Subby Boys!~Who you shush looking into his pretty crying eyes after you finally turn off the vibrator that has been abusing his prostate for the last three hours, who you comfort for being so good for you
“Shhh it’s okay pretty boy mommy’s here, you did such a great job for me love let mommy get you cleaned up okay?”
Subby Boys!~Who let you take care of them after you’ve removed the rope from his bruised skin and pull the vibe out of his abused hole
Subby Boys!~Who’s tear stained eyes still gaze into yours -while you clean him up- like you hold the world in your hands, even after you subjected him to such torture
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
An-
Literally mind empty I just wanna ruin someone ☠️
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
All content was written by lonleydomcatalog~
#msub#dom!reader#dom fem reader#dom reader x sub character#sub character#fdom#fdom stuff#this is my first post please be nice 😭#subby boys
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Hi! Can I please request hcs for Halsin and Astarion with plus size gn!reader who is self concious about their size (and are extremely anxious about clothes and food if thats not too much)? Completely understand if no, feel free to ignore 💚 Thanks!
Astarion & Halsin with a PlusSize!Reader (GN)
masterlist
->A/N: This turned out to be more of a Drabble and less of HC’s oops.
————
->Halsin:
Once you two are in an established relationship he would be tuned to your feelings and notice when your mood shifts and sours.
He would notice you paying more attention to your clothing and what you eat, at first he would be alarmed, not taking it lightly that you would restrict your meals. “My flower, our travels take us long and far, please let me know what ails you so I may see you well again.”
When the tears come to your eyes and your hands shake with your heightened nerves he would grow even more alarmed.
You would tell him all of your worries, and how they plague your mind day and night.
He would silence, your worry growing with each second of silence before his gentle reassurance graces your ears.
“You are beautiful to me, from sunrise to sunset I only think of you, your beauty ellipses all else and I’m sorry these thoughts make you think of yourself any other way. I have traveled and seen things far and wide, but you; you are nature's greatest gift to me, to the world. If I could manifest these terrible thoughts from your head and slay them myself I would for you. But know, you are beautiful as you are, I would ask for you no differently.
“I will help you work through these thoughts, no matter how long it takes.”
Your eyes are glossy, his sincerity seeping to your bones, “And what if it takes quite a while to quiet my racing mind?”
“My flower, you forget I am a Druid, I have lived a lifetime already and for you I would live a thousand more just to see you happy.”
->Astarion:
To speak plainly, Astarion is vain. He cannot see himself but he knows he is an attractive man that much is clear.
He would find you no different than anyone else, besides the fact that he loves you more than anyone else at this camp. And it turn, you would get to hear all of his daily complaints about the other companions.
He would come to you to complain when he would stop and notice you’re not listening at all. “Darling, you know it is rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.” He would be teasing but the words would flow over you like the wind.
The mirror by his tent had your attention, you glare at your reflection, your thoughts racing with the shadows of doubt.
“My sweet?” His hand touches your shoulder and it brakes the trance.
“Do you like how I look? Am I what you want?”
His heart would break at your voice, “Is that why you’re eating less? And here I thought the parasite was messing with you.” He means to lighten the mood but when you show no change he clears his throat.
“Of course I like how you look, I love it. Gods to be honest your the first person that I love everything about. It’s odd to love someone so strongly, I resisted it for a while, scared I’d lose you but I couldn't be without you or see you with another.
“You could have anyone”
“I could, but I only want you, as you want me. I will love you until I turn to dust and even then in the next life I believe I will love you. No matter how you look.”
He can be awfully sweet and poetic when he wants, almost makes your teeth hurt sometimes.
#bg3 x reader#bg3 headcanons#bg3 fic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 astarion#bg3 halsin#halsin x you#halsin x gender neutral reader#astarion x gn!tav#astarion x gn reader#astarion x reader#halsin x reader#Halsin x plus-size!reader#astarion x plus sized tav#bg3#halsin x plus size!reader#halsin x gn!tav#astarion x gender neutral reader#bg3 tav
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Go For a Picnic. Dine at the Ritz...
Okay, I've got an absolutely miserable take on the 1967 scene in the Bentley, after Aziraphale gives Crowley the tartan thermos of holy water.
‼️TRIGGER WARNING‼️, this is going to get a little dark with Aziraphale's assumptions about Crowley's suicidal ideations. Be careful, please.
We all know Crowley has been pining after holy water. (In my dismal opinion, whatever was done to him after he saved Elspeth's soul from damnation in 1827 must have been horrendous, and that's where this request came from.) He asked for it in 1862 when he met with Aziraphale in St. James Park, and was turned down.
And we all already know exactly what Aziraphale thought he wanted it for.
We also know he discovered in 1941 that it was available in churches. No guards surrounding it, and that anyone could just go in and take it.
"Look at that! A whole fontful of holy water. It doesn't even have guards." (His genuine surprise that it's just THERE for the taking.)
Anyway that's not what this is about - this is about Aziraphale's response in 1967.
Obviously, we're all hooked on:
Because, ouch these poor babies really know how to ruin our lives.
So many meanings here. The obvious - you drive like an absolute mad lad and I don't want to be discorporated in a car accident (good lord, the paperwork). The less obvious but definitely there - you jump into things so quickly, I can't keep up.
BUT I'm stuck on this bit:
In my first watch through, I didn't think much of it. "Don't look so disappointed." We can hang out later. I just don't want to drive with you when it's not necessary because you're absolutely terrifying behind the wheel. I'm not telling you to fuck off, call me for dinner some time.
BUT NOW, on my... 5th? 6th? I'm losing track (and my mind) watch, I see it as... begging? As Aziraphale not knowing how to articulate what he's feeling, but desperately trying to communicate it to Crowley anyway.
Because he still thinks Crowley wants the holy water as a way to destroy himself.
I see it as something along the lines of this miserable list;
Please don’t kill yourself.
I need you to not go through with this.
I don’t want to withhold my companionship from you, but I need you to look forward to our time together later so you don't do this now.
I’m not going to spend time with you now, I can’t let you use it as some final goodbye in your mind.
We can go for a picnic, please stay alive long enough for us to do that.
We can dine at the Ritz, please stay alive long enough for us to go there.
And, to be honest, watching it through again with this lens, I wonder if Aziraphale is more grateful for Crowley's company every time they see each other because he didn't go through with it.
I wish I could find a better way to articulate this, and the way it wrings out my heart like a wet rag, but here we are.
Enjoy my misery with me.
#good omens#crowley#aziracrow#aziraphale#gomens#goodomens#good omens 2#ineffable husbands#david tennant#ineffable idiots#michael sheen#anthony j crowley#a. z. fell#good omens meta#is this a meta?#I'm realizing that I don't actually know what a meta is#good omens analysis#good omens scene analysis#I make myself really sad sometimes#ineffable partners#ineffable spouses#good omens 1#angst#ineffable angst#good omens angst#crowley angst#aziraphale angst
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i love the frat boys so imagine them taking care of muñeca whenever mig isn’t there (which is like never but let’s imagine)
“y/n !! what do you want for breakfast?”
“that’s not her name! it’s muñeca, glen!”
“do you want o’hara to kill you, man?!”
“yeah, well?! he isn’t here!”
dear lord it’s only 8 in the morning and she swears her head is about to explode,
miguel had to clock in at work early than usual, leaving his girlfriend at the house. as much as he hates the idea of it, he’s got no choice. not just the fact that he didn’t get the chance to have a lazy morning with her but also the fact that he’s leaving her with the boys, too.
he loves them but they could be a real pain in the ass and a major flirt, except for beck.
“just call me if one of them tries to do something with you, cariño— i love you”
it’s what he said before leaving,
not even an hour after he’s gone that his frat brothers are making her lose her mind with all the noise,
she sighs as she massages her temple, sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee between hands. one that is made by glen, surprisingly tasting a bit better that what her boyfriend usually makes,
“guys! i’ll eat anything i swear—just please shut. up” she groans softly, pulling the hems of miguel’s thick knitted sweater that clings onto her body, protecting her from chilly morning air,
carlos shakes his head, arms crossed. “that is not an answer! what. do you. want. to. eat!”
“carlos! i swear to fucking—“
“banana bread maybe, or muffins? what does miguel usually get for you anyway? ah! matcha, isn’t it!” glen interrupts with a smile,
“oooh, how about a nice BLT? you know there’s a rookie here who knows how to make a mean BLT sandwich and you could hire him for the rest of your day to be your slave! just until miguel comes back” carlos suggests, ready to call whoever his name is
“oh my god, don’t say that word” she responds, taking another sip. “you are banned from using that”
“what, ‘hire’?” carlos looks genuinely confused,
she heaves out a heavy sigh, it’s like talking with children. “no. the S word” her eyes dart between the other guys who are looking like they’re ready to serve her with whatever it is she desires.
did miguel put them up to this?
“guys guys come on, she’s big enough to handle shit on her own” beck tells them, popping himself a canned of black coffee and she secretly thanks him for being the most logical one. “but just in case you want a croissant or something just let me know”
“i’ll pick something up from the bakery, just let me borrow your keys” she replies and getting ready to stand up, earning a collective of no’s and hands holding out to stop her. “you all realize that i’m not five?!” she’s getting a tad bit irritated,
“gotcha but!” carlos holds his point finger up, “we’re all instructed to take care of you—“
“no we didn’t?”
“chang, you’re ruining it, shut the fuck up” carlos glares at his asian frat brother who’s hands are up as if to show defense. “anyways—we are instructed to take care of you and if miguel finds out that we’re doing a terrible job at it, all of us are dead. literally”
“i think you’re just exaggerating, carlos” she tries to smile despite wanting to kill him. “he’s not capable of killing anyone”
“didn’t he get into a fight with two guys for staring at your ass and talking about how they’d use you at the same time?” glen chimes in, leaning forward on the kitchen table,
“that doesn’t count, it was not a fight, it was a slaughter. o’hara went apeshit” beck chuckles, taking a seat beside her,
“okay well that happened nearly months ago” she points out at the specific memory, one where she had to stop miguel from going overboard. she’d hate it if her boyfriend went to jail for what happened, “it’s all in the past”
“yeah well those two men are still on his black list” beck shrugs, “you know how serious he gets when it comes to you, kid”
she sighs for what it feels like a hundredth time that morning. “okay you know what, if it gets you all to be quiet, especially you carlos” she throws a soft glare at the man who’s wearing an innocent smile, standing tippy toes. “then just—can i please have that BLT sandwich? i am starving”
carlos claps his hands, “absolutely, you gorgeous human being! oi, rookie! get down here! muñeca needs breakfast!” he calls out the boy from downstairs,
“holy—carlos! why did i just tell you?!” beck snaps, narrowing his eyes at his frat brother,
“oh, my bad—i mean, mrs. o’hara needs breakfast!”
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I have been unable to get the idea of baby Kaeya sneaking off to Sumeru without telling anyone out of my head
Baby Kaeya: I have successfully snuck into Sumeru in a merchant convoy. I may have left without saying goodbye, but I’m sure the Ragnvindrs will not mind. After all, surely they don’t see me as their actual family. They might raise a fuss and be in agony if Diluc were to disappear, but not for me.
Meanwhile......
Crepus, on his 8th bottle: How on earth have I managed to lose an entire child?? Did he get kidnapped? Did he run away? Is he alive? Is he safe? I’m going to have a breakdown holy shit. I have failed as a father. Elzer, have the knights gotten back about their search of the area? Or the private squad I hired?
Elzer: I’m afraid they have found nothing...but look on the bright side! At least we haven’t lost Diluc...
Adeline, literally physically restraining Diluc to stop him from running off to search for Kaeya: Yet. We have not lost Diluc YET.
----------------------------------------
Merchant guy: Hey, uh, guys?
Merchant lady: Yeah?
Merchant guy: Can somebody read this handwriting? I think whoever wrote this must have been in a hurry or something. And are those...tear stains?
Merchant lady: Sure...hm looks like the boss’s son is missing....
Merchant guy: Huh. Well we guarded the goods pretty well but let’s check just to make sure.
Merchant lady: *Opens up the goods to find Kaeya wedged between 2 crates* Oh we’re so fired.
Kaeya: In your defense, it’s only been a few days. One time I hid from...something for a week. And it was far more perceptive than you are, so you can hardly be blamed for missing me for only a few days. It was a fun challenge, but I was very hungry afterwards. By the way, do you have some water? I did not want to risk revealing myself, so I have not moved from this spot since we left.
Merchant guy: We’re not fired...we’re dead.
------------------------------
Crepus, sprinting to Sumeru: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
----------------------------------------
Merchant guy: So...while we wait for your dad, why did you come here anyways? I’m sure we could do something fun.
Kaeya: Hmmm, no. You should not look into why I came here. That would be bad, for me and for you.
Merchant lady, whispering to merchant guy: Hey, um, what the fuck does that mean?
Merchant guy, whispering to merchant lady: The boss said his new kid was kinda odd, but this wasn’t what I was expecting.
------------------------------------
Crepus: KAEYA! OH THANK GOODNESS YOU ARE OK!
Kaeya: Hello Master Crepus. I hope I didn’t cause too much-
Crepus: WHY ON TEYVAT WOULD YOU JUST RUN AWAY? DID YOU JUST WANT TO GO TO SUMERU TO SEE THE RAINFORESTS OR SOMETHING?
Kaeya: ...Sure. I read about it in a book and thought it looked cool. I wanted to see it, and so I left.
Crepus: *sigh* Kaeya, next time you want to take a vacation somewhere, please just tell us. You ARE grounded for a month since you broke a very big rule, but afterwards I’ll see about arranging a trip to Sumeru for us.
Kaeya: Crossing Teyvat to find me, grounding me, and arranging trips around my preferences? Why are you treating me so similarly to how you treat Diluc?
Crepus: Because you are both my sons. Why on earth would I treat you any differently?
Kaeya, forming the first healthy relationship with an adult in his entire life and realizing that he has grown attached to the very family he was left to spy on then eventually betray: Oh. This...I feel weird. Bad-weird and good-weird.
Crepus: Well, you probably feel weird because you were LODGED BETWEEN TWO CRATES FOR 4 DAYS STRAIGHT? You’re going to give me a heart attack one day, I swear. Now we’re going back to Mondstadt right now, and you’re grounded starting the day after we get back. I highly doubt Adelinde and Diluc will be able to restrain themselves from fawning over you, they’ve been a mess.
Kaeya, realizing that now only has he grown attached to his new family, but they have grown incredibly attached to him: Oh...oh no.
#genshin impact#kaeya#crepus ragnvindr#kaeya alberich#diluc ragnvindr#he is not technically a speaker but I think he is present enough to qualify a mention#adelinde#my beloved#elzer#IDK what his timeline is but I'm assuming he's working for the Ragnvindrs at this point#anyways#what if this was the moment when Kaeya realized just how much he loved his new family#and when he realized how much they loved him#bro Crepus PERSONALLY TRAVELED ALL THE WAY TO SUMERU TO GET KAEYA#I can only imagine that Diluc was trying to break out of the house on a daily basis to save Kaeya like a good knight would
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Welcome! Masterlist!
Hello and welcome! My name is Bella, I am 30, I write Criminal Minds fanfiction for Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid and David Rossi. Please feel free to send story suggestions or prompt ideas or just say Hi! Here is a little masterlist of my current stories.
Aaron Hotchner
I don't dance Summary: Aaron had a bad day. Twirling you around the kitchen makes him feel better.
I won't let go Summary: You wake up thinking everything is perfect. In reality you've been stabbed.
Unsub Kisses Summary: Aaron has to go undercover and makes out with the unsub. You get jealous.
You are the only thing I need. Like coffee in the morning Summary: Aaron asks you out…in front of everyone.
Why Wait? Summary: Vegas hotels have wedding chapels in the lobby. Aaron makes a decision.
Love you out loud Summary: Hotch cuddles. What could be better?
Shut up and dance with me! Summary: When you are asked to attend the annual FBI Gala you dress up. Hotch can't help himself.
Hostage Kisses Summary: He didn't mean to kiss you....No that's a lie. He totally did.
Sandwich Hearts Summary: You make Aaron's lunch and he gets lightly teased for it.
Lipstick smeared accidents Summary: When Aaron is checking over an injury on you he just can't help himself.
Keep on dreaming Summary: You fall asleep smushed between Aaron and David.
I’m dirty but you play clean 18+. Summary: Handcuffs. Hotchner. Lack of clothing.
I will not give you up this time Summary: Facebook memories are bringing you down. Aaron decides to do something about it.
They tell me your blue sky’s faded to gray Summary: You can't sleep. Aaron helps.
Asleep on the jet Summary: You fall asleep on Aaron’s shoulder on the jet.
Do I deserve this hurting? Summary: Your depression is plaguing you. Aaron helps comfort you.
Spencer Reid
Marry me today and everyday Summary: Spencer has never been more nervous for anything in his life.
Heat Stroke Summary: You are self-conscious about the scars on your arms so you wear long sleeves. And wind up getting heat stroke. Spencer takes care of you.
We've all got bruises Summary: You mess up on a case and take it out on yourself. Spencer finds out and confronts you about it.
Sleep Issues Summary: Spencer can't sleep. You help just by being there.
There's no turning back now Summary: First kisses can be a scary thing.
Why? That's what I keep asking Summary: You don't fit in with anyone anymore. You can't keep faking it. You're so sorry.
Tonight will be the night I will fall for you Summary: Spencer suspects your boyfriend is beating you. When you show up on his doorstep, beaten, he vows to protect you.
They say we're crazy, I say well maybe that's true. Summary: Spencer is having a bad mental health day. You try to help him
I’ll wear out the words I love you Summary: Spencer finally asks the question that’s been on his mind for months…just not when and where you’d expect
So I’ll leave you gagged and bound Summary: You have been dating Aaron Hotchner for a few months and when he introduces you to the team Spencer Reid can't help but fall in love. The problem is Spencer's mental health is declining and fast. When he gets fired and realizes he has nothing to lose...he takes you. Will Aaron find you in time?
A subtle interest Summary: Emily drags Spencer to see her ballerina friend perform. Spencer falls fast.
Sometimes even to live is an act of courage Summary: Spencer is not doing well. This is not a happy story. Trigger warnings apply.
David Rossi
You belong to me I believe Summary: An unsub gets a little too flirty with you. David steps in.
Date Night 18+ Summary: Bella is new to the FBI and literally runs into David Rossi who she happens to have a massive crush on. He takes her out to dinner and they wind up on his couch.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds gen fic#aaron hotchner#spencer reid#david rossi#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds smut#criminal minds angst#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#david rossi x ofc#david rossi x reader#rossi x reader#masterlist#anons welcome#welcome to my blog#requests open
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Maybe some hawks yandere?
Pay Attention!
Yandere Keigo x Fem!Reader
Tag List: @issamomma
Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW (spanking punishment & slightly erotic themes), manipulation, possessiveness
Summary: You just started your first job as a sidekick at eighteen. As things are difficult with your personal life, they start interfering with your career. How will Hawks react?
Checkout my Master List here.
—————————————————————————
You walk into Hawk’s agency for a meeting to discuss your work as his sidekick. You know you haven’t been giving it your all recently, and you’re disappointed in yourself for that. You shouldn’t let your personal issues interfere with your work. However, the hell you’re going through seems to keep getting in your way. You’ve become unfocused during missions, and Hawks has scolded you more than once about endangering yourself by not being mentally present.
Taking a deep breath, you go up to his office. Hawks wanted to have this meeting extremely early for the reason being that nobody would be in the building yet. It’s six-thirty in the morning, and nobody starts showing up until eight. With a heavy heart, you knock on the door, alerting him of your presence.
“Come in,” you hear behind the door.
Walking into his office, he tells you to sit down so that the meeting can begin. He looks at you with a mixture of emotions, guilt being the main one.
“Look, Y/N, I really like working with you. I think you’re a great young lady with tons of potential. That’s why I feel it’s my job to tell you that you might end up getting fired in a few days. It’s not because of me. My manager and publicist brought this up in a meeting a few days ago. Your work has been slacking, and it’s starting to affect me.”
“Well, what can I do? There has to be something. Keigo, I can’t lose my job!”
“Whoa there, calm down. I know this is upsetting news. I just didn’t want it to come as a surprise to you if you end up getting canned. I’m not trying to upset you or anything.”
You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I know you’re not. I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just…I’m going through such a hard time right now. I have to pay my rent, or I’m going to get evicted. Please, I don’t want to be fired.”
Keigo leans back in his chair, his wings settling against his sides. He jokes, “I mean, I can’t just give you a spanking and send you on your way. These kinds of things have actual consequences.”
Knowing it’s a stretch, you twiddle with your thumbs nervously as you shrug and wipe away a stray tear from your cheek. “What if you gave me the spanking instead of firing me?”
Hawks laughs and then realizes that you aren’t kidding. “I…Y/N, I can’t do that.”
“Why? I thought this was your agency.”
“Well, there’s HR and stuff could get complicated if it got out that I did that to you. Not that I’m implying I would.”
“I wouldn’t tell anyone and nobody’s here.”
Keigo takes a few moments. He stands up from his desk chair and walks over to the window, looking out over the city. After making up his mind, he turns and looks at you. “Alright, if this is what you want, then lift your skirt and bend over the desk.”
Your eyes widen with hope. “If I do this, you won’t fire me?”
He shakes his head, giving you a soft smile. “Nope. You’ll get to keep your job.”
You hurry to do as you are told. Once you lift your skirt, you notice that Keigo has drawn the blinds around the office, granting you privacy even though nobody is in the building. You wonder what a spanking from Keigo will feel like. Will he be firm yet merciful? You think he’s a pretty easy going guy, so the punishment shouldn’t hurt too much.
Then his hand comes crashing down on your bottom as you’re jackknifed over his desk, and you find yourself sorely mistaken. His hand holds the wrath of Satan! You end up deeply regretting your decision after only ten smacks. You didn’t think Hawks would spank you so hard since he’s such a laid back man.
Frantically, you put a hand behind you to protect your bottom from his onslaught.
“Ow! Stop! It hurts!”
“Yeah? You asked for this. Did you think it was gonna tickle?” He takes your wrist and pins it to your lower back, continuing to redden your ass.
“Keigo, please, I don’t want to cry!”
“I’m perfectly fine with you crying in front of me. What I’m not okay with is you putting yourself in danger and ruining my image. Hero work can go horribly wrong if you’re not attentive. You’re lucky you’re getting off with a spanking this time, but if there’s ever a next time, your ass is gone.”
You try to wrestle your wrist away from his hand, but he’s a lot stronger than you are. Feeling like fighting isn’t getting you anywhere, you succumb to your sobs. This isn’t at all how you thought this would go down. You thought Keigo would give you either one or two harsh smacks or about ten swats that wouldn’t hurt at all.
As you can see, the plan failed because here you are: howling over the pro hero’s desk. It makes you feel like a child. You’ve never liked crying in front of others because of how vulnerable it makes you feel. Right now, you think this is the most exposed you’ve ever been.
“Never put yourself in danger like that again! Do you understand me? You’re too valuable to lose,” he admonishes as he works the backs of your thighs so that they match your crimson bottom.
“Yes, Sir, I understand! I’ll never do it again!” You scream your promises. “Please, Sir, I’m so sorry!”
Dripping a bit with sweat and tears, you wonder if he’ll ever have mercy on you. It takes you a full thirty seconds before you realize he has stopped.
He stands there, towering over your limp form, looking at his masterpiece. He did that with his hands. He turned your bottom and thighs into a mass of scarlet, crimson, and cherry red with flecks of purple bruises here and there. It’s so tempting for him to press his lips against your beaten flesh.
Keigo finds a way to pull himself together. He can’t give into his desires. Like a gentleman, he helps you up from the desk and turns you to face him. What comes next is something your heart decided before having the chance to talk with your brain. You immediately hug Hawks, arms wrapping around him tightly. He isn’t entirely surprised, and he gives you the comfort that you need. The hero gives you a tissue for you to wipe your face with, and you gladly take it.
“You need to focus more. I’m giving you the day off. Get some rest, take care of some personal things, and come back tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Sir. I won’t let you down ever again!” You promise him as you exit his office. You close the door and head back to your apartment.
Keigo folds his arms across his chest and smirks. “The young ones are always so easy to fool.”
#my hero acedamia#boku no hero academia#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#triggering content#triggering themes#keigo takami#mha keigo takami#bnha keigo takami#takami keigo#yandere keigo#yandere keigo takami#yandere keigo x reader#pro hero hawks#yandere hawks#wing hero hawks#mha hawks#hawks#bnha hawks#yandere hawks x reader
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Kinktober Day Eight: Master/slave - Minho/Hyunjin
Tags: dom!Minho, sub!Hyunjin, subspace, master/slave dynamics, cockwarming, exhibitionism, fingering, degradation, name calling
AO3 Link
Hyunjin’s knees ached from the hard ground and the air on his bare skin made him shiver. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there. Minutes, hours, the whole day ? Honestly, when he was in this position, time seemed to lose all meaning. He was an object, made only to serve and please Minho. The ache in his back and the soreness of his knees only served to remind him that he was doing good. It made his mind feel fuzzy, like it was full of soft cotton and fluffy clouds. He was floating, ready for any command Minho, his master , gave him.
Suddenly footsteps filled Hyunjin’s ears and his heart jumped in his chest. The anticipation he always felt when Minho approached would never be topped by anything else. Nothing could compare to the heat that built in his gut whenever his master came to him.
“Mm, so obedient. Thank you for waiting,” Minho said with a gentle hum. He ran a hand through Hyunjin’s black hair and as much as Hyunjin wanted to respond and press into his touch, he knew he hadn’t been given permission yet. Minho continued caressing his scalp for a moment before he slid his hand down his face and hooked his fingers under his chin. “You can look up at me now.”
Minho tilted Hyunjin’s head up and he turned his gaze upwards, meeting his eyes. “There you are.” Hyunjin couldn’t hold back the dazed smile that formed on his lips. Minho could be so mean to him, but he could also be incredibly sweet. Hyunjin loved both, but he couldn’t help preening at the tone of his voice at the moment.
“Are you ready to prepare for our guests, slave?” he asked. He caressed Hyunjin’s jaw with his thumb as he spoke.
“Yes, Master,” Hyunjin said obediently. He flexed the fingers of his hands, which were still held behind his back in a pair of handcuffs. Now that Minho was here he was suddenly more aware of all the aches in his body. But he held as still as he could because he wanted to please Minho.
“Good. Do you remember what our plan is?”
Hyunjin nodded, but quickly remembered to give a verbal reply as well. They had gone over everything that morning. Discussed their limits again, what was okay and what wasn’t, what they would do specifically, and who would be there. Everything was planned out precisely, and all Hyunjin had to do from this point was follow Minho’s instructions.
“Perfect,” Minho said, brushing his thumb over Hyunjin’s lips.
Hyunjin fidgeted a little and Minho’s eyes narrowed a little bit. Hyunjin’s stomach seemed to swoop and he bit his lip, stilling his movements. “Are you uncomfortable like this?” Minho asked, tilting his head. Hyunjin considered whether to lie or tell the truth. Minho would want him to be honest though.
“A…a little bit, Master. I’m just sore,” Hyunjin admitted meekly. He glanced to the ground but Minho gripped his jaw and forced him to look up.
“Look at me when you talk, slut,” Minho snapped.
Hyunjin shuddered and looked back up at him. “I’m sorry, Master. I–I’m just a little achy, but I feel good serving you. That’s the best…the best thing to me.” To anyone else it might seem like he was just trying to butter Minho up, but he really was being truthful.
“There we go. Thank you for telling me,” Minho said, his expression and tone softening. “You can get up now. I wouldn’t want my pretty slave to be all bruised up and sore, now would I?”
“No, Master,” Hyunjin said, his lips turning up in a slight smile.
“Mhm… So you can get up now. You stayed in position for long enough.”
“Thank you, Master,” Hyunjin said happily. He struggled a little to stand up from his knees with how stiff his legs were and the fact that his hands were still stuck together with cuffs. Minho helped stabilize him, placing his hands on Hyunjin’s shoulders to lift him. Hyunjin’s breath caught in his throat at the action and his head once again had that fluffy, cotton feeling. He knew he was hard even without looking down, and had been for a long time. But he wasn’t allowed to touch himself without permission, and he was a well trained slave. He rarely disobeyed his master.
“Let’s get these off. Then you can start getting ready,” Minho said, slipping his hands behind Hyunjin to undo the handcuffs.
Hyunjin let out a soft sigh as his hands were freed from their confines and he was finally able to stretch his sore muscles. “Feels much better,” he said with a smile, rubbing his wrists. “I’ll start getting ready now!”
“That’s a good boy.” Minho cupped his cheek and pet over his cheekbone with his thumb. “Once you finish everything I’ll get you ready as well. So I want you in my bedroom, on your knees in front of the bed. Understood?”
“Yes, Master, I understand,” Hyunjin replied with an eager nod. He gave Minho a deep bow before moving off to prepare everything.
Some people might frown upon what he was doing or think it was an unkind arrangement. But Hyunjin enjoyed it. It was an agreement he consented to. He could back out at any time. But he had no plans of doing that. There was something so fulfilling about it, even when it came to tasks like cooking and cleaning. Hyunjin’s chest warmed with pride any time he was able to make Minho a meal that satisfied him, especially when he got to feed it to him directly.
By the time Hyunjin was done, the entire house was sparkling and smelling of savory dishes, he rushed to the bedroom and got on his knees in front of the bed. There was a mat on the floor so his knees wouldn’t bruise this time and as soon as he got in position his limbs tingled and his head was airy and light again. It felt so good to be like this.
Minho entered the bedroom soon after and he gave Hyunjin a catlike smile. “You’ve done well today, slave,” he praised and Hyunjin preened, biting his lip.
“Thank you, Master, I’m so glad you think so,” he responded eagerly.
“Of course. I’m so proud,” Minho said. “So well behaved.”
Hyunjin could have melted into the floor right then.
“Let me make you all pretty for our guests now. Stand up and lay down on the bed.”
Hyunjin easily complied, scrambling quickly to switch positions and lay across the soft mattress. He watched as Minho grabbed a box from the closet and pulled out a set of red lingerie and a butt plug with a gem on the end. Hyunjin’s cheeks burned at the sight and his stomach flipped. He would be in that in front of everyone. “You’ll really look like my perfect slave, won’t you?”
“Yes, Master, yours,” Hyunjin breathed.
Minho smirked as he approached the bed. “Mine,” he said, punctuating the words with a squeeze of his thigh.
Minho grabbed the lube from the bedside drawer and after getting Hyunjin to spread his legs, began opening him up for the plug. He let Hyunjin moan freely this time so Hyunjin didn’t hold back, whining and panting with every press and curl of Minho’s fingers. His cock went from being soft to rock solid within minutes of Minho fingering him, beads of precum leaking onto his abs. Minho teased him by spreading his fingers wide and dragging the digits over his prostate. And Hyunjin still wasn’t allowed to come.
Once Minho had secured the plug in Hyunjin’s stretched hole, he helped him put on the lacy lingerie. Panties with a heart cutout in the ass showed off the plug and silky garters hugged the flesh of his soft thighs. Hyunjin’s blush matched the red of the lace. “Such a slutty looking slave, aren’t you?” Minho said teasingly.
Hyunjin whimpered and his knees went weak. “Y-yes, yours to show off.”
“Mhm. I can’t wait,” Minho hummed. “Our guests should be arriving soon. Go wait for them.”
Hyunjin gave Minho a nod and a bow and then scurried off to wait for them in the living room. He was on his knees again, arms behind his back. The perfect position of submission.
Soon after, the doorbell rang and Minho went to answer it. Chan walked in first, Jeongin following shortly after him. They greeted Minho with smiles and hugs (from Chan), and then began glancing around. Chan’s eyes landed on him first and Hyunjin’s entire body burned from the attention. “Ahh there he is.”
Jeongin and Minho looked at him then and Minho grinned. “Isn’t he just the prettiest?”
“I’m surprised you got him to be so well behaved,” Jeongin mused. “He used to be such a brat.”
Hyunjin’s fists clenched behind his back and he forced himself to keep from squeezing his thighs together when his cock twitched. They were talking about him like he wasn’t even there. An object only for their admiration.
“Oh it took a lot of training, trust me,” Minho responded with a laugh. “But now he does whatever I say.”
Hyunjin burned . Everything they said was true and it made arousal swirl in his stomach.
Minho led them to the dining room to sit them down, and soon after the others arrived. Jisung and Felix next, followed soon after by Changbin and Seungmin. Having such an audience made Hyunjin feel like some art piece in a museum. He could feel their stares burning holes through him and their whispered words, giggles, and points only made him dizzier.
Eventually, after a few moments of greeting and socializing, Minho turned his attention to Hyunjin, still sitting dutifully on the carpet, and beckoned him over with a curl of his finger. “Come, slave, we’re starting dinner. You know what to do.”
Hyunjin knew exactly what to do. He stood up and made his way to the table, sparks going up his back at the pleased sounds everyone made. He heard Jisung mumble, “ Fuck,” under his breath and Seungmin leaned over to Changbin to whisper something in his ear. Hyunjin first went around the table, serving each of them expensive wine and making sure everything was ready and available for them to eat. They never stopped staring.
Minho looked all too smug with their reactions, the lazy grin he was showing never leaving his face. “Sit,” he said, patting his thigh twice. Hyunjin maneuvered around the table to sit on his lap and squirmed a little to adjust his position. Minho’s hand immediately went to his waist and he dug his fingers into his side. “Feed me.”
This was easy. Hyunjin did this often. He grabbed the chopsticks and grabbed a piece of meat and lifted it to Minho’s lips. His stomach warmed as Minho’s lips closed around the chopsticks and he closed his eyes, letting out a small, satisfied hum. “
“How was that so homoerotic?” Jisung whispered, to which Seungmin responded,
“He’s literally sitting on Minho’s lap and is dressed like a little slut, how can it not be?”
Hyunjin’s cheeks burned at his response and Minho smirked, placing a hand on Hyunjin’s thigh. “That was delicious,” he said sweetly, giving Hyunjin’s thigh a squeeze. Hyunjin whimpered, and it was obvious by the expressions of everyone at the table that they all heard it. “Isn’t he a good cook?” Minho asked, looking around the table.
“May rival you,” Chan said with a chuckle and Hyunjin positively melted at the praise. He was a good slave for Minho, he did good.
“Maybe not that far,” Minho said, shooting Chan a glare, even as he opened his mouth for another bite Hyunjin prepared for him. Hyunjin was a good cook, but he had an even better teacher.
“Master is definitely the best cook,” Hyunjin said softly. He nearly giggled at the reactions from everyone at him so openly calling Minho “Master.” They’d only heard it a few times and every time the reactions were the same–mixed reactions of arousal and shock, red faces, open mouths. A whimper if you were Jisung. “He trained me well.”
“Of course,” Jeongin supplied. He turned his eyes to Minho. “He wouldn’t be able to do anything on his own without getting trained, would he?”
Minho chuckled as Hyunjin squirmed in his lap. More embarrassment pulsed in his chest and went all the way down through his stomach to his toes. “I’m afraid not. It’s really a good thing he listens so well. In fact…I think I’ll eat on my own now. Why don’t you serve me another way, hm?”
Hyunjin knew exactly what Minho meant. They had planned this all after all. He gave Minho a sharp nod and a, “Yes, Master,” before he got off his lap and crawled under the table to kneel between Minho’s spread thighs.
“ Good ,” Minho drawled. He reached down underneath the table and unzipped his pants so he could pull his cock out. It was semi-hard from Hyunjin being on his lap and that filled Hyunjin with an unreasonable amount of pride. “Cockwarm me while I eat dinner with my friends.”
“Wow,” Hyunjin heard Changbin mumble from the table along with a few soft gasps and accompanying moans. Just the command only followed by the reactions had Hyunjin’s head and body buzzing. He could barely think, all he knew was he needed to do what his master told him.
Hyunjin opened his mouth and put his lips around the head of Minho’s cock, going down almost to the base in one go. He rested his head on Minho’s thighs and breathed deeply through his nose, allowing the feeling of Minho’s heavy cock on his tongue to lull him even deeper into his headspace.
For the rest of dinner, Hyunjin stayed like that. The sound of their conversation faded out as his mind went numb from cockwarming Minho. Occasionally, Minho would shift or roll his hips forward and Hyunjin’s eyes would water as he gagged a little. But he never pulled off. He wanted to impress Minho and impress everyone that was there, even though they all seemed to be ignoring him. The lack of attention only made him slip further and further, until he was in a dream-like state. Please Master, do good for him, good slave, good …
Hyunjin barely registered when everyone got up to start leaving until Minho curled his fingers in his hair and eased him off his cock. “Up, boy, everyone’s leaving,” he said, his voice soft in a way that kept Hyunjin in the same headspace. Drool ran down Hyunjin’s chin from having a cock in his mouth for so long and he didn’t even bother to wipe it up as he crawled from under the table and stood up on shaky legs.
He followed Minho to the door with the others and gave them all a deep bow. “Thank you for coming,” he said softly. He wasn’t even sure if he said it out loud, but the way Minho smiled told him otherwise.
“You should bring him around like that more often,” Changbin said.
“Maybe. I’ll have to discuss it with him first though,” he said, scratching the back of Hyunjin’s head. “I hope you all enjoyed yourselves. I definitely did.”
“It was fun!” Felix said with a warm smile. “Though next time I want more interaction with Hyunjinnie.”
Minho glanced at Hyunjin’s face and grinned. “Noted.”
After they all left and Hyunjin and Minho had said goodbye and thanked all of them, Minho turned to Hyunjin and pet his hair. “Hey there, Hyunjin,” he said softly. “You did good. That was a lot.”
Hyunjin nodded, a soft smile on his face. Minho sighed fondly.
“Let’s go get you changed then get you something to eat. I want you strong and healthy, right?”
Hyunjin perked up a little. “Yes, that sounds wonderful, Master,” he said happily.
“Good. Let’s get moving then.” He smacked Hyunjin’s butt and Hyunjin responded with a yelp before heading off to the bedroom to get changed.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#kinktober day 8#hyunjin smut#minho smut#hyunho#skz smut#skz fic#skz fanfiction#stray kids fanfiction#fanfiction#smut#master/slave#sub!hyunjin#dom!minho
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I Took All This Love I Found and I Hope That it's Enough (Astarion x GN! reader)
Part 2 to “Yesterday I Was Dancing”
Author note- thank you for all the love on my last mental health fiction! I am so glad I could make so many people feel heard and loved during a difficult time :) WE WILL GET THROUGH THIS PEOPLE!!!!!!! Also I wrote this with my experience with CPTSD in mind and how my boyfriend is with me.
Title from the song “Only Love” by PVRIS
I leave you with this quote by Jamie Tworkowski:
“We’re all in this together. It’s okay to be honest. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to say you’re stuck, or that you’re haunted or that you can’t begin to let go. We can all relate to those things. Screw the stigma that says otherwise. Break the silence and break the cycle, for you are more than just your pain. You are not alone. And people need other people.”
I promise I tried to keep it as reader friendly as possible by keeping description to a minimum- please scroll with your mental health in mind. I don’t care that I’m telling you ‘not to’ and now you ‘want to’- save it for later and before therapy. Please call 988 if it becomes too much- the world still needs you.
CW: C/PTSD symptoms, physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, torture
Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated :) thank you to all of you who have helped me find my love of writing again!
*picture is not mine and does not belong to me. Please reach out if it’s yours so I can give you credit.
Astarion knows what he’s feeling is not necessarily normal- he should not be this outrageously terrified that you are talking to your other companions around the fire.
Laughing. Joking. Touching.
You could have anyone you like and Astarion had managed to sweep you up first. In spite of telling Astarion you only want him (after he observed an interesting discussion between you and Gale), he knows eventually you’ll discover that Astarion is only good for one thing- sex. Astarion’s chest tightens at the thought and then he feels that wave of fear that sits and rots in the pit of his stomach.
You laugh brightly again.
I’m going to lose them.
Astarion’s recent onset of agitation and anxiety has become all consuming. It hasn’t been this bad since the beginning of your sordid adventure (sordid to him anyway). His paranoia- specifically towards you- had caused him to, in his opinion, act bizarrely.
While you had been in a brutal fight with the Githyanki earlier that week- Astarion had been cornered by the Inquistor and he froze- checked out, if you will. Unfortunately, Astarion has been checked out ever since and when he does check back in- Astarion feels terribly uncomfortable and like the world is caving in on him.
What’s making it all even worse is that Astarion just wants to talk to you about it and wants to ask to be held or have you gently play with his hair like you do. Anything to make this horrible disgusting feeling towards himself- his own skin- go away. If he could just feel loved for five minutes…
No, that is not the plan. The plan is NOT to depend on them for anything other than physical protection.
But honestly? He really could give a shit less about his ‘masterfully crafted’ plan.
Astarion feels desperately alone in the world right now and he needs you. Only he won’t bother you- Astarion wants you to want to be with him and that means he needs to show off his assets. You couldn’t possibly want him like this- a sniveling, fearful mess.
Astarion knows he’s been giving you emotional whiplash ever since the Creche. He’s been fighting every decision you make, breaking things when the urge arises (nothing valuable, just some plates he’s stolen), been so angry at you that you have cried 5 different times, begs you to forgive him, runs away from you, and then freezes all over again. Today is one of the first days he’s seen a genuine smile on your face all week.
Astarion had also kicked you out of his tent- his skin crawling from the nightmares plaguing his trances all week. He regretted it pretty much instantly, but didn’t know how to ask you to come back.
His lack of rationale is ruining his plan entirely.
The dreams- they are always about Cazador. How he’s tortured him; physically, emotionally, and sexually. Last night, Astarion relived one of the more recent times Cazador had brutually raped him and then proceeded to let a couple of his politician friends go at him too. Cazador wanted him to remember what he was- is- only good for because Astarion had neglected to bring home someone for the Vampire Lord to consume.
The other nights, he went back to being flayed, being buried alive for a year, and receiving the carvings in his back. Astarion always wakes up feeling small, alone, and terrified- completely paralyzed and stuck in his body.
Through it all, you have been nothing but kind to him. You have attempted to understand why Astarion has been acting this way and, because he’s his own worst enemy, the more you give to him- the more he pushes you away.
Now Astarion is facing the very reality he was trying to prevent by pushing you away- you leaving him for someone else. Halsin gives you light brushes with his fingers, Karlach bumps your knees together, Gale gives you adoring smiles, Lae’zel has given you her undivided attention, and Shadowheart whispers into your ear just a little too close.
You are a bright light in camp- everyone has immediately been taken by you and that’s actually probably the only thing this group agreed on for a while. Even Astarion has come to genuinely care about you and doesn’t want to share you with anyone else.
As everyone begins to go to their respective tents- you hesitate by the fire and look at him. Astarion feels shame course through his bones when he notices how nervous you are as you slightly shake and the weariness written all over your face. He had just been taking care of you- you had let him in, why can’t he let you?
Astarion smiles brightly and feels successful when you beam- practically skipping over to talk to him.
“Well hello, Darling,” he purrs, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
You shift uncomfortably, “I just…. Astarion- are you okay? You’ve really not been yourself this week.”
Astarion feels every alarm bell in his body go off. He needs to save this quickly. Astarion can’t make you think he’s too much effort to be with or too much work. He doesn’t want you to realize that with as much pleasure as he can give you- he will never be someone you love long-term. He is far too messy. Astarion is a temporary camp for your heart right now and he needs to make sure it’s a long rest- despite how much he doesn’t really want to have sex right now. Astarion would actually prefer to be entangled with you and just talk- no sex, just intimacy.
How silly of him.
“My dear,” he says pulling you in close, his lips hovering over yours, “wouldn’t you rather we be doing something more… exciting with our mouths than talking? You are far too enticing for me to just talk to you right now.”
Astarion can tell from your eyes that you are frowning- he can fix this.
Astarion presses his lips to yours in a crushing, possessive kiss. He walks backwards into his tent, pulling you in by your hips, and pulls you down with him to the bed roll.
When you go to speak, Astarion flips you over on your back and begins kissing along your neck, grinding into you, and pressing your body down with his.
“Astarion,” you whisper.
He ignores you and keeps going.
“Astarion,” you say a little louder this time.
Astarion isn’t even in the building anymore- he’s fighting the walk down memory lane his brain wants to take. Whatever he needs to do to keep you near him. Astarion nips at the skin on your neck.
“Astarion!” You exclaim, gently pushing him off you causing him to jump back.
Astarion feels himself snap out of whatever dissociative prison that he was in and begins to have a surge of panic even worse than before. Now he misses that stupid, angry fog that’s been shielding him from whatever the hells this is!
“I’m sorry- I ruined it didn’t I? Fuck,” Astarion practically shouts, then begins rambling“ I’m so sorry Tav. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I know I’ve been terrible and I don’t deserve your forgiveness or you but-“
A choked sob interrupts Astarion’s sentence. He’s crying now, the emotions are whirling around, bouncing from one side of his brain to another. Images of terrible experiences flashing by and he’s already imagining every worst case scenario. Maybe you’ll flay him? Or lay him back down and ride him until he’s begging for you to stop or until he can’t cry anymore? Bury him alive?
“Please be gentle,” Astarion sobs into his hands, trying to cover his shame while pleading with you, “just don’t leave me- I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again- I’ll be better.”
Astarion curls in on himself, his head hiding between his knees. Astarion is mentally preparing for the first act of violence towards him tonight- he imagines there is more to come after.
“Oh my Star,” you sigh sadly, “I could never ever hurt you- emotionally, physically, and I certainly won’t allow you to hurt yourself by forcing yourself have sex with me.”
Astarion feels his mood switch in an instant- now he’s hostile, digging his hands into his calves.
He chuckles bitterly before looking at you with angry eyes, “so this is where you tell me you’re done right? I can’t do the one fucking thing I’m good for so now what? Gale more to your taste? Or what about Shadowheart- you were quite keen on letting her whisper in your ear all night. Better yet, I bet Halsin will fuck you until you are fucking screaming like the whore you are under the Gods damn stars!”
Astarion’s words feel like venom coating his throat. He hates himself right now- he doesn’t know why he is saying what he’s saying- why he’s so hostile. You are you- wonderful, amazing you! Why can’t he just tell you he’s struggling?
Your expression is unreadable and you are studying him- Astarion can see the gears going behind your head. He puts his head back into the crook of his legs- not wanting to witness you leave him once and for all.
“I love your voice,” you say quietly, “and the way you talk- despite how much the words being used are hurting me right now. I love how brilliant you are and you are single-handedly the funniest person I’ve ever met.”
Astarion is looking at you, tears threatening to spill again. The way you are smiling at him is insane- you should be institutionalized. You are looking at him as if he’s the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Maybe even the whole galaxy- if he’s actually this lucky.
“I have missed being around you so much this week,” you continue talking in a hushed, gentle tone, “but I know that this is not you and that you are really really scared. You must know though- my affection for you, my adoration- to hells with it- my feelings for you is not fragile- it is not conditional. I will not be withholding it from you or leaving you because you need time to heal. I will continue to be here- in whatever way you need me-for as long as you will have me.
“I like you a lot Astarion. I really do- it has never been about what you can do for me. You’re my favorite everything. You don’t ever have to return my feelings- we can just be friends if that’s all you ever want. I am not your Master, Astarion- and neither is Cazador. You are your own person.”
He feels overcome with emotion- relief, joy, shock. Astarion never thought he could care about someone this much- let alone have them reciprocate those affections. Astarion practically tackles you into a bone crushing hug- knocking you flat on the ground. He feels warm when a pleased giggle shakes your body. Astarion inhales deeply- your scent squashing every negative emotion he is feeling temporarily.
Astarion feels instant comfort when your arms wrap around his torso and you adjust so that his head is laying on your chest. You stroke and play with his hair absentmindedly in the way he’s been craving for the past several days.
Astarion lays there and just listens to your heartbeat. Every thump that echoes inside your body relieves some of the pressure in his chest. Astarion’s back and shoulders still feel tight with nerves and rage, his legs are taught and ready to run, but at least now he doesn’t feel like he’s dying. Again.
“I’m sorry Darling,” Astarion sniffs, “I promise I’m not always this high maintenance.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for Star,” he can hear your sweet smile in your voice, “I’m right here when you’re ready. The maintenance isn’t hard for me- I’m here and I care.
“And like you told me- I am here to help you when you lose to yourself and need someone to just stand with you in the storm. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”
“No more hiding- for either of us,” Astarion quietly agrees.
For the first time in a long time- Astarion has hope. Maybe he is more than just a body to enjoy in bed.
Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls
#baldurs gate 3#astarion#astarion x reader#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x you#bg3 spoilers#astarion romance#astarion x tav#bg3#astarion x gn!tav#Astarion x gn! reader#astarion acunin#BG3 hell#bg3 companions#CPTSD#trauma
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where it begins to end
PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
WARNINGS: allusions to self-harm. so much angst. so much smut. 18+ only. lets fucking goooo
LENGTH: 3.7k
The whole thing reminds you of the time you’d held your hand over an open flame.
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_____
His arm stays curled around your cooling body, fingers gently tracing your hip bone, and your eyes stay fixed at the cracks in your ceiling. The air around you feels thick with his scent, heady, and it clouds your mind, making you feel particularly satisfied with where you are right now.
But the world doesn’t care for the nest you’ve created inside your bedroom, and the snow outside continues to fall, the scene outside your window equal parts picturesque and dreary.
You turn to him, your cheek pressing lightly against one sinewy arm. “Can I ask you a morbid-type question?”
“Mm,” comes the only response, and you have to bite back a smile at the slightly delayed response with a tone that sounds like he’s dragging it out of his throat. The tone of voice you affectionately refer to in your head as belonging to pussy-drunk Simon.
“If you were injured, really injured, you would tell me, right? Or someone would?” Your words are soft, tinged with nervousness, but he tenses nonetheless. Fuck. “Look I just…just need to know how it’ll work.”
When he remains silent, you move your head to rest it on his chest, your hand flitting over his bandaged side before coming to a rest on it lightly, fingers tracing the edges of the exposed gauze. “This could have been…something else entirely and—”
“It wasn’t.” He’s quick to point out. The hand on your hip moves up to cradle your head. “M’fine.”
“Y-yeah, it was fine this time, Simon. What about next time when you get shot, or you jump on a bomb or step on a mine or whatever?” You take a deep breath to try and reset. “It doesn’t have to be that hard, just please list me as your emergency contact or next of kin or whatever it is—”
“My next of kin are dead.” He grunts and your throat is immediately filled with your despair. This is not how you had pictured this conversation going. “I’m legally dead.”
Your words turn to ash in your mouth. You knew he didn’t have any living family, he’d alluded to it, and through context alone you’d guessed that it had been related to his job, his secrecy, all of it, but this was…beyond fucked up.
“Legally dead.” You whisper his words back to him, and they still don’t make any more sense than when he’d said them. “What does that even mean?”
His exhale is harsh and you find yourself wanting some distance between you right now. You sit up, the sheets pulled up to your chest and your knees tucked against you tight. His hand that was caressing your hair falls back to the bed limply while you readjust, and somehow, it makes you teary.
“Means I don’t exist anymore. Not to anyone except at work,” he murmurs, one hand dragging across unruly blonde hair, further dishevelling it.
“That’s why you—”
“Yeah,” he whispers, cutting you off harshly. “That’s why.”
“So…wait. Do you—does that… Shit. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say here.” Your laugh is high-pitched and hysterical. “You wouldn’t even get a funeral. They’d just, what, bury you somewhere? Wait, no,” you whisper, realisation dawning and the horror of it creeping on you slowly, leaving you feeling cold with your dread. “I wouldn’t—they wouldn’t even know to tell me.”
He says your name quietly, trying to ground you, trying to bring your attention back to him, and gently squeezes your knee. But the solid, warm touch makes you falter. Reminds you of exactly what it is that you’d lose. “So… if you died or-or even got hurt, I wouldn’t even know? You’ll just, what, stop showing up here?”
“It’s not like that,” he starts, but you’re already getting off the bed, your rage tingeing the edges of your vision a pulsing, bright red. You start to pull your clothes on, hating how vulnerable you feel right now. He seems to read your mind and averts his eyes as you dress, but it only serves to make you angrier.
“What the fuck is it like, then?”
“Y’knew what you were getting yourself into.” His words are almost matter-of-factly, but it's his eyes that catch your attention. Steady and dark and vacant as they bore into yours, and you quickly come to the realisation that this isn’t your Simon, right now. This is the Simon he becomes when he leaves. The version of him you don’t get to see, the version he never shows you.
He’s on his feet now too, fishing around for his own jeans, but he whirls around angrily at your next words.
“Getting myself into, Simon? You could have literally been a new person fucking me every single time under that fucking mask, and I wouldn’t have known, that’s how much I trust you. That’s what I agreed to get myself into.”
“Fuck you,” he seethes. “Fuck you for that.”
“You did! It’s all you’ve done! Two years of this bullshit, and it’s all you’ve ever done! I am so fucking tired of your shitty excuses and your—”
“They killed my fucking family!” he roars, and your shock makes you recoil. “They killed my family and they’ll do it again!”
“Simon—”
“You think—you think it’s so fuckin’ easy hiding you, hiding this. Think I’d tell the world, let ‘em know about you, and you’d survive that?”
“Simon, stop—”
“Think they’d let you live once they know who y’are? Where you live? Think you’re special, love?”
“Enough!” You yell, and shove at his chest, making him back up, acutely aware that the only reason you’re able to move him is because he allows it. “I’ve fucking heard enough.”
“Have you? Don’t want to hear about what happens to people in my life?”
“Jesus Christ, Simon. I don’t know—”
“No. You fucking don’t. You don’t know. S’why I didn’t–didn’t want any of this. ”
You scoff and take a step towards him. “No. No, you don’t get to say that. You shifted the goalposts, Simon. You decided to take the mask off. When I wanted more, you said you wanted that too. You don’t fucking get to tell me you didn’t want this, when you’re the reason this is what this is.”
“And what is that, exactly? What do you–”
“This is it, Simon. I’m done.” You’re undeniably tired now, with all of it.
“Yeah,” he whispers, bitterly, running a shaky hand over his face.
You’re pulled away from the moment by a distinctive memory of the day you’d placed your palm over an open flame at work. It had hurt, of course, but you’d been transfixed, strangely pulled into the whole thing. The flame had felt like it was licking up your entire arm rather than just singeing your palm.
The head chef had sent you home, and told you to stay there until you’d gotten your head together. Ultimately, he’d made you stay home until he’d fired you.
Your tears come hot and fast as you look up at Simon, but your attention is drawn to his hands, trembling at his sides.
You remember, then, that some part of him must want this too. Maybe not as much as you did, maybe not in the way you did, but he felt something for you. You knew that. You know you’re in his life because he wants you there, because he allows it. Because he allows himself a degree of vulnerability with you, because you show him love in the specific way he allows it.
Everything you have with him is on his terms, because he allows it, and it incenses you.
“You had me going for a bit, Simon, you really had me believing this would work.” You shove him again without thinking about it, tears flowing freely now, but this time he doesn’t move. This time, he grabs both your wrists in one hand and brings the other to your jaw.
“Quit that,” his voice dangerously low.
“Or what,” you whisper, but it seems that he’s done listening. No sooner have the words left your mouth, his hand on your jaw tightens and he pulls you into him, kissing you with lips and teeth that are sure to bruise you.
He kisses you like a man starved, his lips hard and demanding against yours, and you’re close to breathlessness before he lets you go. Even then, he doesn’t let you put any physical distance between you, the two of you panting against each other’s mouths.
Your eyes meet for a split second before his hands let you go and he’s hoisting you up into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist instantly. He’s breathing hard against you, but leans forward to kiss you again anyway. Despite the moment between you—despite the fact that he’s walked you both to a wall and pinned you against it with a force that pushes the air out of your chest—you find yourself losing yourself in his kiss that feels as if he’s the one angry at you.
As if you’re the one breaking his heart.
Your body starts to feel like warm honey, viscous and wrapped around him without a modicum of resistance, and despite the fact that he’s loved you so many times tonight, this feels different. This feels like he knows what’s coming—like he knows that you’ve both finally arrived at what was tragically inevitable—and he’s choosing to punish you for it. The thought rattles around in your brain for a split second before you bite his lip, hard, and his arms tighten around you in warning.
But you don’t care.
This time, you refuse to let him push you away like this is all your fault. And this time, you won’t coddle him or let what you feel for him overwhelm you or treat him with any gentility. No, this time you’ll make him hurt the way you hurt, and you’ll deal with the fallout later.
It seems he has the same idea, feels you slipping away from him already, and he slams your body against the wall, your breath leaving you in a sharp oof as the sharp pain of impact shoots up your spine.
“Later,” he grits out against your mouth.
“Simon–”
“I know. Later,” he says again and for one last time, you decide to listen to him. Listen to what he’s saying by hearing what he isn’t.
But that’s as much grace as you’re willing to afford him right now.
“Put me down.” Your voice is soft, but Simon, being Simon, hears the tiny tremor in it, and immediately concedes. Even puts some space between you that you quickly close by grabbing his hand and pulling him towards your bed.
The sight of him at that moment—for what may be the last time—almost makes you lose your nerve, but you push the thought away by pushing him onto his back while you climb on top of him. You try to commit the way he feels under you to memory—the hard fabric of his jeans, rough and scratchy against your skin, hard chest pressed against yours with not even the space for a breath to pass between you, his face, peppered with scars, and still the most beautiful thing you think you’ve ever seen.
Your hips move instinctually against his thigh, searching for something, some friction, anything to help you forget and just make you feel good, and the way he periodically shifts is most certainly meant to assist you.
Even in the midst of breaking your heart, even in the midst of throwing your love back in your face, Simon finds a way to give your body what it needs, and you fleetingly wonder why he chooses only his body to give it.
You kiss him for what feels like a lifetime and the hands that were placed almost modestly on your waist move up to cover the length of your back, covering it entirely, shielding you from the world at your back. It feels simultaneously safe and oppressive.
It’s not the world you need shielding from, after all. It’s him.
The way he treats you.
The way he refuses you.
You continue to kiss him as your hands make their way to your back, grasping his and bringing them to sit on your waist. His fingers tighten instantly on your skin—you know from the way they dig into you that he’s trying to mark you—and he pulls away briefly. His eyes focus intently on your trembling hands as they try to undo his jeans. You’re not making too much progress, but he continues to stare—neither helping, nor hindering.
Even without his help, you manage to make some progress, and you find him hard and warm and willing, and within moments, you’ve sunk down on him. His exhale is shaky against your lips as you begin to move, and whatever he feels that he keeps so guarded inside him is only betrayed by the way his nails dig into the skin on your hips.
You continue to move, your eyes leaking a constant stream of tears, but for the life of you, you don’t understand why. Why on earth would you let this man—this man that lives his life in secrets and lies and deceit—affect you like this?
Why would you fall in love with this man who can’t even admit to liking your company?
Why—when you try to imagine you life without him—do your tears fall harder and your sob sounds strangled and there isn’t enough air in the room and—
“Breathe, love,” he whispers, and you do. It’s like your body instinctively knows to trust him, to trust his word, to trust that he’ll make you feel good. Your body’s not wrong. He does make it feel good. It’s all he chooses to do for you.
Simon Riley has only ever done this for you—made your body feel good while breaking your heart—and while your heart shatters into a million, inconsolable shards around you, you decide that it’s finally time to walk away.
But it’s as if the object of your torment knows what you’re thinking about, because a sharp, pained sound escapes him, and then he’s moving. One hand comes up to your neck, applying just the barest of pressure—but it’s almost enough and almost too much at the same time—and the other gathers both your wrists, pulling them behind your back.
With your leverage gone, all you can do is sob in your combined pain and pleasure as his hips begin moving up into you relentlessly. All you can do is look at his face, into his eyes, as he allows your pleasure to take priority over his, while he moves and contorts and twists his body to bring yours over the edge.
It’s like the moment is determined to be the most bittersweet projection of your feelings you’ve ever experienced—you can almost convince yourself that the slight sheen to his eyes is him realising what this means to him, his eyes to what you mean to him, only moments before you’re going to end this.
His hand on your neck tightens a fraction, and while the movement of his hips fucking up into you stays hard and steady, it’s almost too much. But Simon’s never been one to coddle you. If he knows you have it in him, then he’ll make you be brave and take it. And that’s exactly what he does when he leans forward and you feel sharp canines graze your throat for a moment before they clamp down and you’re lost.
You feel yourself come around him—hot and wet and absolutely ruined for him—but the speed and intensity of his thrusts don’t waver and he continues to fuck up into you like a man possessed, riding you through your orgasm. The force of his thrusts push your body from oversensitivity into discomfort into starting to feel another crest of your pleasure approaching, before Simon lifts you off of him.
You keen in protest, no words escaping you, just a whiny sob, before he shushes you, his mouth at your ear behind you. He’s rearranged you, you finally note, in an interesting way and your eyes fly open and make contact with him immediately. But not in the way you thought you would.
Simon’s sitting up now, legs spread, and he’s placed you against him, his chest to your back, your bodies flush. He stares at you through the mirror in front of you—he’s gorgeous like this, you note, with a swollen, wet mouth, and his hair mussed and his cheeks carrying high points of colour—and it’s only in the periphery of your vision that you note the movement of his hands. One tattooed arm wraps around your chest, his hand wrapping deftly around your neck. The other arm with its clever, clever fingers are already busy, already reaching down and finding you soaking for him.
You can feel him trapped against your lower back—he’s hard and leaking and his hips instinctually jerk into your back, looking for any semblance of friction—but Simon’s focus seems entirely on you. His eyes never leave yours in the mirror, wide and coal-dark, but you wouldn’t dream of looking away from him right now anyway.
Even then, you’re more the fool, because no sooner than his fingers start to touch you, your moan of relief makes your head fall back onto his shoulder. His fingers tighten on your neck in warning, and you groan as your eyes blink open finding his in the mirror once again.
Simon’s attention is merciless over your slick skin—he knows your body, knows what makes you feel good—and you just let him. His fingers are deft and capable, thumb tapping a rhythm on your clit that feels like it’s pounding in your head instead. It’s almost too much and it’s most definitely not enough. And you’re so, so close to that edge, but you know what it means. Once you come on his fingers like he wants you to, you know exactly where this night will go. So—prior warnings be damned—you squeeze your eyes shut, and try your hardest not to come.
Except even now, even at this moment where you try to prolong your time together, Simon Riley lives to end things prematurely.
“Don’t want you to hold back, love,” he whispers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, know y’want to come.”
“Fuck, Simon,” you moan, driven half out of your mind with the pleasure that’s building to an inevitable crescendo at your core.
“Want to feel you come for me, sweet girl. J–just come on, come for me, just like this. Let me look at you, sweetheart. Let me look at you come on my fingers.”
He’s babbling of course, the words languid and slipping thoughtlessly out of him. But trying as hard as you are to delay what’s about to happen, you’re hardly immune to the effect his body has on yours, and just as instructed, you come for him. You thighs clamp shut around his fingers, effectively trapping his hand between your legs, and his groan rivals your own. For a moment, all you do is breathe hard, your eyes tightly shut and your body bowed forward, trying to recover.
You feel his soft kisses against your jaw, your ear, your cheek, and though he’s still hard against your back, he’s mellowed too, in no hurry to do anything about his erection that must be a source of discomfort. When you try to shift, try to touch him, he nips at your earlobe sharply, and the hand on your neck moves down to your breast, helping you settle against him again.
You recognise a sign of avoiding the inevitable when you see it. You’ve done it for months at this point, after all.
“This was a mistake,” you whisper, but he stays quiet, his eyes boring into yours. “We…should not have done that.”
“No.” The word is quiet, spoken against the skin on the back of your neck. You don’t know if he’s agreeing with your words or disagreeing with the sentiment behind them.
But you’re done trying to figure this man out, done trying to fix meaning or attachment or treacly tenderness to his words and actions where there likely isn’t any. You’re up and disentangling away from him in an instant, scrambling to put some distance between you, pulling your clothes on and blindly grasping at the mess around you, throwing his shirt in his general direction.
“Leave,” you whisper, but he continues to stare at you, unblinking, almost like he didn’t hear you. “Go, Simon. Leave. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”
The words feel like acid when they leave you, burning you on their way out. But this is how it has to be, you decide and even now, even as you’re ending this, Simon chooses to be quiet, chooses to let you—
“Don’t do this,” he murmurs. “Know you deserve more, and I want to giv’it to ya. Jus’ need some time.” His words are soft but cautious, knowing full well what he was asking from you. A shaking hand comes up to cradle your cheek, throat working hard, eyes shiny and wounded. “I need some time, love. Don’t—don’t do this,please. Don’t do this to me.”
Your heart breaks at the display of courage—like a foolish woman in love, you can’t help but simper and melt at how far he’s come, how much he’s probably had to push himself to say those words to you.
But in the two years you’ve known him, he’s shown you enough pain and rejection to last a lifetime, and you don’t think you can take any more.
You close your eyes and let him pull you to him, kissing him and running your hands over as much of him that you can touch. You sob into his mouth once, then twice and he lets you go. “I’ve given you so much, Simon, I just…don’t know if I have anything more to give. I’m sorry.”
He says your name quietly, bringing your attention back up to his eyes. “Please, sweetheart.”
With your chest feeling as empty as the void between the stars, you take his hands in yours and kiss the centre of each palm. “I’m sorry, Simon.”
And then—because it’s easier to believe that you’re only doing this for the sake of your sanity than to explore the alternative— you let him go.
Or. You pretend. For a while.
_____
A/N: this took me 3 months to write, life is a simulation, we live on a spinny rock, let’s all go touch some grass goddammit
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost mw2#cod mw2#situationship simon#lumi writes
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